Potential for greatness. Fear of disastrous failure.

Have you ever heard that quote about people being more afraid of their potential for greatness than of their potential to fail?

I was talking to a friend about this last night (a tough conversation to have through texts), and I’m not sure I agree with it. I think people settle for mediocrity because, even though they may see their potential for greatness, simply trying to reach it risks failure. Rather than putting oneself out on a limb and trying to do something great that we wish to accomplish, we shy away and cling to the big trunk of mediocrity where everyone’s hanging on, not failing per say, but also not achieving. It takes a lot of courage to make that leap- to expend one’s time and energy and risk disastrous failure in the attempt to achieve something wonderful.

A handful of my favorite quotes come to mind:

Twenty years from now, you will be more disappointed by the things you didn’t do than by the ones you did do. So throw off the bowlines. Sail away from the safe harbor. Catch the trade winds in your sails. Explore. Dream. Discover. ~Mark Twain
At first our dreams seem impossible.
Then they seem improbable.
And then, when we summon the will,
They soon become inevitable.
~Christopher Reeves
Failure is simply the opportunity to begin again more intelligently.
~Henry Ford
Let us turn obstacles into stepping stones, weaknesses into strengths, disasters into triumphs. ~Author Unknown

And probably the most relevant quote to these thoughts:
For better it is to dare mighty things, to win glorious triumphs, even though checkered by failure, than to rank among those poor spirits who neither enjoy much nor suffer much because it is they who live in a gray twilight that knows neither victory nor defeat. ~Teddy Roosevelt

Powerful, encouraging quotes, yes. However, it’s a much more difficult idea when put into real practice. How do we overcome our tendency toward mediocrity for fear of risking utter failure?

I have a tough term facing me when I return to site today. Not only am I still teaching all of Form IV Biology and Chemistry, but

1) We have mock exams (practice for national exams in October) in a couple of weeks, for which I alone, being the only science teacher at the school, must prepare the lab practicals in Biology, Chemistry, and Physics. I tell them I don’t know what that means, that we don’t really have lab practical exams in the US, and certainly not on Volumetric and Qualitative Analysis. We don’t even have gloves for handling chemicals. But no matter, the job falls on me (I might get help from a fellow PCV, though- cross your fingers!).

2) I am in charge of programming a four day conference on HIV/AIDS teaching knowledge and life skills to both deaf and hearing students in August. As a former (and possibly future again?) camp counselor, the only biologist and the health specialist for the project, I get to plan the whole program and tell everyone else what we’re doing. While I’m really excited about it and will love being a “camp counselor” again for a few days, I’ve never planned four days of activity of 16 deaf and hearing students and five teachers all by myself.

Potential for greatness. Fear of disastrous failure.

3) I’m leading a staff seminar on health tomorrow, which I scheduled for myself and am very excited to do. I have plans to facilitate discussion about health at our school, to talk about what we’re doing right and what we could do better, to brainstorm solutions to the issues we face and to motivate staff to get involved and work a little harder at promoting health in our school. After all, we live in TZ, where malaria and HIV are rampant, sex is still a very taboo subject, and a large majority have no education beyond primary school, if they even reached that far. I’m also going to brief them on the HIV/AIDS Conference so they feel involved and like the project belongs to the school. It’s not me doing my own little thing and taking my counterpart teacher along.

But how can I, an outsider who’s younger than any of them (though with a higher degree), jump in and facilitate and manage such change, make such a huge impact that I hope to affect? I’m scared of the potential to fail, to be totally shut down, which is a very real possibility in this situation. How do I do all I want to do and affect change without stepping on toes, offending people, getting laughed at and told I’m just a kid who doesn’t know anything and thinks she’s better than everyone, an outsider who doesn’t know that Africans are fundamentally different that wazungu (this is seriously an argument I’ve met many times)? How can I be such an effective leader and manager and facilitator?

That’s my job. That’s the challenge. It’s super scary and it’s what I came here to face. Starting tomorrow I guess. But now that I think about it, this might just be the new challenge I need, just what I’m looking for to find the fulfillment in being here when everything is so discouraging. If I can face and conquer this fear of disastrous failure when trying to reach great potential, then I’ll return home to the US satisfied. It may take several, or even several hundred, attempts to succeed, but the attempts are what matters- facing and conquering that fear. And tomorrow is just my first big, scheduled attempt, a beginning to a fierce conversation that I hope will last for the entire time I’m here and beyond and will produce many successes and promote many positive changes.

Here goes...

A Day in the Life

Today’s been a bit stressful so far. Went to the road to catch a bus around 8 this morning, but I just barely missed the 8:00 bus and sat down for some ginger chai at the café on the road to wait for the 9:00 bus. There, I talked to the woman who owns the café and makes the chai and small, greasy baked goods called maandazi. She said my Kiswahili is getting really good these days, which I’ve heard a lot lately. I can definitely feel that I am much better at it now than I was when I first came to Ismani. I’ve reached a new level, one at which I’m comfortable saying most of what I want to say, it’s becoming more fluid (which is one of the hardest things with this language since it has so many prefixes and suffixes and infixes to indicate the subject and object of the sentence, the tense, the time it happens, etc.), and I can understand people much better, even when they speak faster. Still can’t understand the radio completely (though I can kind of follow what they’re saying sometimes, and otherwise I can pick out several key words), and there are some people who just speak so fast and use vocabulary I don’t know so I just can’t understand a word they say. But most people speak clearly enough and use my vocabulary for the most part, so I can get along pretty well.
Anyway, I rushed out of the café at 8:40 when the bus came early. However, it was packed and I had to stand. Not terribly uncomfortable as it turns out, though the conductor decided it was necessary to continually pass up and down the bus, squeezing around people, to go collect money and hand out tickets. At one point, he gave up squeezing around people in the aisle and decided to just climb on top of all the seats (this was while the bus was sailing down the bumpy dirt road to town). At the “airport” (large field of grass) down the mountain from Iringa, those of us standing on the bus had to change to a daladala. A minivan made to seat about 7 people, the daladala this morning carried 20 people and a baby. Don’t ask me how that works; it’s like a clown car.
So I made it to town and made for the bus stand to ask about prices and times to get to various places in the future. I haggled a bit with one lady on the price, but she wouldn’t budge, so I left without my ticket. On my way to the ATM, I realized I’d forgotten my nice REI backpack in the back of the daladala. And then I realized that I’d left my passport in it.
Fighting a heart attack, I walked swiftly to the daladala stand to try to find the one I’d taken. All I knew was it was grayish in color. How to find it? Then a guy about my age came up to me and started babbling about the bus stand and fighting for money. He was holding out a bill to me, offering me money since I wouldn’t pay the price the woman at the bus stand was asking me to pay. This was definitely a first- he’d followed me a few blocks simply to offer to help me with money? Hmmm… I told him that it was ok, I’d buy my ticket later and be sure to get a good price, then decided he could help me in a different way. I told him my predicament with the daladala and my bag, and he took me around to different conductors asking where to find the car. Apparently they all know each other, and all I had to do was tell them when I came in and where I caught the daladala. They led me straight to it. Thank goodness. And I’m so glad that I met that nice guy who offered me money. Odd, yes, but he did seem genuine and helped me find my bag.
So today I plan to go to the safi duka (nice store with good, though expensive, food items such as powdered milk, fake butter, bouillon cubes, oatmeal, and spices. Then to the market to grab a few veggies, a restaurant to splurge on the best cheeseburger in Tanzania (about $3), the posta to pick up some packages and send some letters, and the pharmacy to buy 5 kilos of dog food (Supa Dog) for Batman. And then to return home, hopefully before dark. Big day. After a couple more days at site, I’m off to Morogoro again for a PEPFAR community theater workshop. I’m so excited to learn about how to use theater to communicate HIV/AIDS and behavior change messages. Hopefully, it will be helpful in the health club and HIV/AIDS conference I’m planning (more about that later). I need something to reenergize my ideas and get some projects going for next school term. So, here we go!

Home Improvement

I've decided I can no longer stand camping every day and have thus ordered some woodwork from the local "fundi." First, I asked him to make me a long table to be used as my "kitchen countertop" where I can cut veggies, put my stove on (off the floor), and put a wide mouth bucket on to use as a sink. Then I'll put a small shelf above that bucket with another bucket and make it into a faucet. I'm so excited to have a real, makeshift sink! I've also ordered a tall bookshelf to use as a "pantry"/"kitchen cupboards," so I can put all my food on it rather than my concrete floor with the spiders and other various bugs. I also splurged and bought some large tupperwares for my fruits and veggies because my mouse keeps eating them. I'm working on killing the mouse, but it's turning out to be rather difficult. These things should be ready in two weeks, and I can hardly wait. It'll not only improve my morale and productivity, but it will also puppy proof the house a little more. Imagine trying to cook on the floor with nothing but a kerosene stove and a headlamp and a 4 month old wild and crazy puppy at your feet, stealing every piece of food and every lick off a utensil he can get. He once took a whole egg from a pile of 3 that I was about to crack and ate the whole thing! While he's getting much better about obeying me and knowing whether he can eat or lick something on the floor, he's still an excitable little guy who can't always control his urges. But I love the little dude. Especially when he crawls into my lap (or sometimes he jumps...) to lie down for a nap. So cute!

Back at it

As frustrating as the school system is, I had a pretty good week. Batman was super excited to see me. He's turned into a little devil! He tears up the house, steals my underwear and socks, sleeps in my suitcase (which is my dresser still) once I am sound asleep, and gets so excited to see me and other people he knows that he jumps and squeals and scratches and bites (playfully of course, but it still can hurt). So we're working on training for that. Any tips? He's such a cutie, though, with his big bat ears which he hasn't grown into yet, even though he grew a lot while I was away for two weeks. He's a cuddler, too, and loves to jump on the couch (I try to get him to stay on the section where I put his sheet) and then curl up next to me, sometimes crawling into my lap. It's really adorable.

I have a student who's very helpful to me, too. She took care of Batman while I was away. And while I was quite miffed that she found a hidden key to the house (I gave her only the key to the courtyard), let herself in, ate some of my pasta, and gave my precious expensive powdered milk to the dog (though I specifically told her he didn't need any milk, only the dog food I had left in my courtyard kitchen for him), she also took good care of him, washed dishes and mopped my house for me when I returned, went with me to the village and helped me find eggs and potatoes and all sorts of things I can't usually find, and then brought me some pumpkins and corn from her family's farm. So how could I be angry with her? She's so nice and eager to learn and to talk to me and take me everywhere I need to go and then clean my house for me. So I guess I'll just deal with it.

We had mid-terms at school this week. Monday's tests were canceled because no one had copied out the tests for the students yet. No one thought to do that before the day tests were scheduled to start, of course. And then the school secretary copied a few tests, painstakingly slow even though 3 of us teachers were there helping, until tea break when she left again for the day. L-a-z-y. I love her little boys (about 3 and 1 years old- so cute! and they love to play with me), but she can be so hard to deal with. I just don't know what to say to her, because she doesn't work, she's always complaining about how strict/mean the headmaster is (I think he's great), and she doesn't really talk about anything else.

So anyway, we started supervising tests on Tuesday. But no one made copies of the tests for Wednesday, and then the "copy machine" broke. The "copy machine" is a hand crank piece of metal far older than I am, to which you must attach a specially typed paper attached to carbon paper and then add ink and crank a few times before you can put paper in. Now, a simple sautwering (how do you spell that?) gun would have easily fixed the problem, but of course there are none of those to be found. And even if there were, there would be no one to find it because no one thinks it's their job to do such a thing.

So we ended up writing the rest of the tests on the chalkboards. The poor teachers who had to write up my tests! My tests were super long compared to the others, even though they were only 2-3 pages long. And the students thought they were so hard! But I'm not ashamed. The hardest classes I've ever taken have usually been the ones that have taught me the most, not only about the material I was supposed to learn, but also about how to think critically, how to integrate ideas and make connections between them, how to apply my understanding to new situations, and how to synthesize new information given what I already know. And I’ve realized that’s what’s really lacking in these kids’ education. And that’s just what I plan (and hope) to teach them. Instead of being super frustrated with this system and angry at the kids for their lack of knowledge and critical thinking skills, I need to find ways to be patient and turn that anger/frustration into something productive, into a lesson. I have to meet the kids where they are and bring them up to par rather than continue to expect that they know things and can think for themselves and then get frustrated when they don’t/can’t. So that’s going to be a new goal of mine, both for myself and for my students.

But there’s also good news. We have 5 new teachers! That brings us up to 10 teachers, technically (not that they all actually teach, of course). The new ones are temporary (3-4 months probably), but that brings the student to teacher ratio down below 100:1! Sad that I think that’s wonderful. Then yesterday, my counterpart and I took my Frisbee out to the football field and we taught the students who were hanging around how to throw and catch. They loved it! Even though it poured twice, they just took the Frisbee inside a classroom and continued til the rain stopped. And they complained loudly when we left. I left my Frisbee with my counterpart today so they could play again this afternoon. Maybe I’ll teach them Ultimate this week and we can have competitions. Fun!

So life’s pretty good lately. I’m dealing with frustrations and enjoying the beauty of my site and getting to know people better. I feel a little more a part of the community these days, though I’m still often confused and feel like a little kid who can’t do things correctly or handle situations at school, etc. Slowly, it’s coming along. And I’m hoping to plant my own garden, starting tomorrow. We’ll see how that goes!

In-Service Training

So now I’m in Njombe town south of Iringa for two weeks for in-service training. Half of my training group is here (the half that lives around here in the southern highlands) plus Tanzanian counterparts we each chose from our sites to come to training with us to help us do our volunteer stuff back at site. My counterpart, a neighbor and teacher at my school who’s become kind of a friend, is really awesome, and I think he will help a lot with implementing all these ideas when we get back. Already we’re planning to make a garden behind our houses (the thought of growing my own vegetables and herbs is so exciting!), and I think we will do a lot to minimize the use of corporal punishment in school, which has been a huge problem. I hate listening to kids being beat with a stick and then crying and whimpering and pleading for it to stop. Plus, it’s so ineffective. So I think my counterpart actually agrees now and will help support me in my convictions when we get back. Hopefully we can help each other be better teachers and help the other teachers be better, too. And hopefully we can implement some outside of school programs to teach the kids life skills and keep them busy and motivated to study as well as work in the community to improve villagers’ health and behavior, especially regarding our students (girls get chased out of school if they become pregnant, usually by a villager not in school). I have so many ideas and want to do so much, it’s overwhelming! How can I possibly do everything I want to do? I guess that’s why I have a counterpart.

So anyway, training has been good. This week we’ve focused on PEPFAR and HIV/AIDS education. We learned all about HIV/AIDS, the disease progression and symptoms as well as how it works molecularly. Sort of a refresher course for me, but it reminded me just how much I love the biochemistry of disease and how it relates to the individual and personal level as well as the epidemiological level. It got me thinking about grad school in immunology or epidemiology or public health with a specialty in one of these when I get back to the US. I think I’ll be ready to go back to school by then, and I’ll be all fired up about global health, too.

This weekend, it’s back home to school for me. I think I’m more excited to be back at site now. But it has been super frustrating so far. I have at least one really terrible day per week. And it’s very discouraging to be involved in this broken school system with so many hopeless characteristics. Can I really help do anything when I’m only one of 5 teachers at a school of 720, the kids don’t have teachers in their classes most of the time, the exams are pretty damn hard, everything is taught to the exams and regular school grades don’t matter, the kids are supposed to be taught in English at secondary school but don’t have any foundation in the language from their primary school during which they sat in the classroom every day without any teachers so now they don’t know any English at all, the teachers we do have spend more of their time drinking chai and punishing students than teaching their scheduled classes, and the chalkboards are so bad that you can hardly read what’s written on them. Those are just a few of the frustrations. Seriously, this country drives me nuts sometimes.
But I just have to keep telling myself that whatever I do, however little, can have an effect. That even if the kids don’t pass on to Advanced level secondary school, they can learn valuable life lessons in school, about health and nutrition and farming and how to interact with others and how important education is, so that they can live better lives and then help give the next generation a better life, however minimal the changes are. Eventually, after several generations, education might be valued, genders might be more equal (in a family planning debate the school had a couple weeks ago, one argument against family planning given by a Form 4 boy was that if women don’t have enough children, they will have more time on their hands, and thus they will be prostitutes- Oh My God!!!), people might be healthier, agricultural practices might be more efficient, etc. It’ll just take time…

So we’ll see how the next couple months go until our school break in June, during which I plan to lead a week long girls’ conference with 3 other volunteers (we’ll each bring about 10 girls with potential to learn about reproductive health and life skills like self-confidence and communication and encourage them to show those boys that they can be just as good students and leaders and they can go somewhere in their lives) and then do some traveling around the country. It’ll be a nice break, I’m sure.

Maybe I’m just in a really weird mood because this is such a different situation- I live far away from other Americans and rarely see them, much less get to town for internet and such, so I’m really in my own little world. I’ve now been on my own longer than I was in training with these friends, so it’s kind of weird to see these friends after being away from them all for so long and we didn’t even know each other for 3 months to begin with. Plus, it’s a social explosion to go from some Tanzanian semi-friends that take such effort to communicate with and be culturally appropriate with to suddenly being around 16 other friends from training who have all had their own lives for the past 3 months (and while we text and even call each other on occasion, we really don’t know what’s going on in each others’ lives). But I can relax around them and just be myself, speak quickly and with an American slur and slang thrown in, wear pants and sit in a chair however I want and drink beer and just act like an American without worrying about what others think of me (I hate that I have to worry about that, but it’s what you gotta do in a different country like this).

And then this weekend, I’ll go back to being on my own at site, rarely seeing any of these friends, struggling to cook and clean and teach and implement all my great ideas in my community, though at least with the help of a counterpart. Crazy. But I get to see Batman! And one friend pointed out that the next 6 months will probably be way easier than the last 6 months because now we know what we’re up against, we’ve struggled through some of the initial problems, and our Swahili is improving along with our relationships at site, etc. So that’s a nice thought! J

I hope my mood stabilizes and I can just enjoy being here, living and working with the Tanzanians without too many frustrations. I’ve learned a lot to deal with the issues of teachers who beat students, students who don’t understand any English, students who won’t try and won’t study or do homework, etc. Hopefully I’m now ready to tackle and conquer these frustrations so that the joys of working with students, hanging out with the teachers, etc. can be more joyful and make life good rather than simply bearable.

$3 Puppy

The day came when I decided I needed a puppy, mostly for the company,from a small furry bundle of energy with whom I don’t have to worryabout communication (once trained, anyway). So I asked everyone I metthat day to help me find a puppy. And one guy listened and arranged ameeting the following day with a man who owned a puppy. After waitingfor 2 hours after the set meeting time (remember, this is Africa), wemet with the man in his living room lit by the soft light of akerosene lantern. My new friend and the puppy-owner discussed thematter for awhile as I struggled to understand everything. They wantedto make sure I would take good care of the pup and find a place for itwhen I leave Tanzania- a bit ironic considering the fact that fewTanzanians take good care of dogs.After some young entrepreneurial boys agreed on a price of about $3 inTanzanian shillingi, I paid and then we left and they brought the pupout and gave him to one of my students who was going to escort me homein the dark. So I didn’t really get a good look at him til I got homeand put him in a broken wide mouth bucket with a sheet.

He’s a typical Tanzanian mutt: skinny, short-haired, mostly light brown. His legs and belly are white with a few tan speckles, his tail is black with a white tip, and he has some black markings on his neck, snout, and the tips of his ears. And his ears are HUGE! He’s got a serious wingspan with those things, probably about as wide as he is tall (~a foot). Hence, his ears have christened him with the name Batman. Never thought I’d name my dog that, but it fits him and Batman is my favorite superhero, so it works.

I had him for three weeks, potty training him, trying to get him to sit and to come (come is a very difficult command for most dogs- they come running when they feel like it, but now and then they look at you with mischief in their eyes, turn and bolt the opposite way). One of the first few days I had him, he managed to sneak into my room (the door is usually closed to keep him out of trouble), jump up onto my bed and get under the mosquito net, then squirt puppy diarrhea all over. I discovered theis when I sat down on the edge of my bed that night, exhausted and smelled something rank. Ewww! So I had to sleep on the couch that night without a mosquito net, tossing and turning and being bit by mosquitos all night. But he made up for it by curling up with me and cuddling happily all night. He just hates the fact that he has to sleep next to my bed and not in my bed with me every night.

So then I came to Njombe town south of Iringa for two weeks of Peace Corps in-service training. He was pretty well potty trained by then, and my next door neighbor (also a teacher) was starting to train him to “Nipe tano” (Give me five). It was super cute. I’ve been missing him now for a couple weeks and hoping that my student is taking good care of him and he’s not too mad at me for leaving him alone. Can’t wait to see him again and hear his cute little whimpering puppy noises when I come home and he gets overwhelmingly excited to see me!

Care packages :)

I'm really just fine without the comforts of America, so I don't really need anything. Nor do I want gobs of stuff to fill my house. If people here can live without it, so can I. But if you're just dying to send me something, I thought I'd write down a few simple, light, and inexpensive items that might just improve the quality of my life (though letters will truly do just fine):


~Rennet tablets (should be pretty cheap) and cheesecloth for cheesemaking (my first batch of mango wine is already brewed and delicious if I do say so myself)
~Mac and Cheese packets (I can get the macaroni here, so you can just send the cheese packet with the recipe to save on shipping)
~anything instant (hot cocoa, cider, soup mixes, etc.- though now I have lots of Crystal Light) to reduce cooking times and making drinking water a more pleasant experience
~maps- I've received a US map and a map of the world, which are wonderful, but if you know me well, you'll know that I LOVE maps and I can spend hours and hours looking at them)
~stickers for grading- this is an excellent gift!
~gifts I might give to Tanzanians

I'll add and make changes to the list as I go and think of any more useful items, so check back here if you're looking for things to send. Also, I can really get all my school supplies and such here for pretty cheap, so no need to send those sorts of things.

As far as packaging goes, things sent in a padded envelope that are under 4lbs will be easiest on customs taxes. Label them "educational materials" or something else very vague and if there's anything expensive, don't report the true cost (because customs taxes are steep! They tried to get me to pay $35 to receive a package that was labeled $100 value- not worth it.). I've heard writing Bible verses or putting religious stickers on packages help them get through easier without any mysterious losses, though I have no proof it's true.

Patience is a virtue

…one which I’m gaining in heap loads every second of every day.

I’ve heard it said that PCVs in different regions of the world gain different perspectives based on their regions. Volunteers in Asia become more philosophical, those n Central and South America become more political, and those who volunteer in Africa gain a sense of humor and an immeasurable amount of patience. When I first heard this in training, I laughed, but I’m beginning to believe it. My friends in Peru, Guatemala, Kazakhstan, etc. will have to tell me about their experiences in the rest of the world, but the Africa part is true. While I’m sure all volunteers gain all of these things, I truly believe Africa gives one both humor and patience. Without these, no one would survive here. Sometimes, to keep myself from crying or screaming in frustration, I just have to laugh and chill.

Like when I get on a bus packed with 5 times as many people as seats and my bags become scattered in whatever nooks are open, and I have to stand in the aisle squished against 5 other people, some women with crying babies tied to their backs and others carrying 4 squawking chickens in my face, for 2 hours on a bumpy dirt road, stopping every 3 minutes to pick up or drop off furniture, luggage, children, people, and animals (including but not limited to goats and chickens) just to get home from a day trip to town. How can you not cry from the stress? You just laugh. And you say “Hakuna shida,” one of the Tanzanian forms of hakuna matata- no problem, no worries. There are plenty of other ways to say this based on region and dialect.

(In fact, someone said “Hakuna matata” to me the other day, and I understood but was confused as to why he said “matata” instead of the more common “matatizo.” A few minutes later, I recognized the line from The Lion King and realized the man deals with tourists all the time and probably uses the phrase often with white people. A sign that I’m really getting used to Kiswahili and I’m no tourist.)

Or when an immediate, emergency transport to town (usually two and a half hours by bus and 45 minutes for a private car) for a visit to the doctor turns into a day long trip followed by two full days waiting for people and broken machines to produce results of tests, each followed by calling the PC medical officer to inform her of the results and ask which tests to get next. I was surprised at how calm I was. My stomach sure hurt, but I sat and waited for African time to pass, sure that things would get done and we’d find the right treatment at some point. After all, Peace Corps has great medical assistance. So you chuckle and chill out because worrying just won’t help.

So rest assured that Africa makes me laugh every day. Have you ever watched a rooster crow? Or little children in primary school march in droves giggly and giddy, imitating the mzungu (white person, or technically, European) that they’re following and shyly asking questions and sneaking smiles? I’m gaining plenty of patience in order to face any situation imaginable.

A hot shower

When I came to Iringa about a week and a half ago, sick, I splurged on a $20/night safi hotel with a comfy bed, hot shower, Western toilet, soap, mirrors, towels, and omelets with bread and honey, sausages, fresh papaya juice and chai for breakfast. I felt like such a tourist, though I loved speaking Kiswahili to the pleasantly-surprised desk workers, bell hops, and restaurant servers.

But it was oh-so-worth-it, especially being sicker than a dog, and I realized how difficult life in the village really is. I hadn’t had a hot shower since I left the States four and a half months ago. It was heaven. So I decided to stay a second night while I was healing just to experience such luxury a little more before returning to my mosquito-ridden house without electricity or running water, my cold bucket baths every other day, my ever-molding vegetables, my broken charcoal stove, and my foam mattress with a large dent in it exactly the size and shape of my body.

It’s certainly a challenge, but also an adventure and a great opportunity. I’ve never thought for one second that this is not what I’m meant to be doing right now in my life. This is exactly where I’m supposed to be, even if I don’t always feel like I belong or that I know what I’m doing. In fact, usually I don’t. But I wake up every morning and get out of bed to keep trying with my head held high. Someday, eventually, I will truly belong in this community and it will be my home.

It's Possible

I've realized that the US is progressive simply because people say "It's possible." We're always thinking of progression, of development, of opportunities to make our lives easier, more efficient, longer, and supposedly happier. People know that if they work hard, they have the opportunity to do anything they want. We constantly think of the future- our goals, our plans, progression. But do we lose sight of the present in our attempts to make life better later?

Here, it’s the opposite. People live entirely in the here and now - What do I want or need now? What am I doing right now? – so much so that I think it’s hard for them to look into the future and plan. Saving money, valuing education and the opportunity it might bring, inventing ways to make life easier, and planning the development of the country to improve its infrastructure and, again, make life easier are just not prevalent attitudes here. I’m not sure if people just don’t know about these things, if they don’t think it’s possible, or if they just don’t care. Or maybe some combination thereof, depending on who I ask.

One of my goals here is to change these attitudes. I want to tell people there are easier ways; there are things that will help improve life. I want to tell them that these things are possible, that change is possible, and that everyone can make a difference, however small, in producing such change. I want to inspire my students and others I meet to think outside the box and believe it’s possible for each one of them to make the change they see is needed. I want to help people improve their own lives.

Can you tell I’m a Peace Corps Volunteer?

Contemplation on a Potato Peeler

In America, everything, every tiny little tool or machine, is designed to make life more efficient, and hence "easier." I'm sure you recognize that big machines like dishwashers and washing machines and dryers save a lot of time, and there are useful utilities such as running water (and it's clean for drinking, too!) and electricity (which saves an incredible amount of time cooking, heats water, and of course provides an opportunity for time well used after dark). But you've also got little amenities that make life so much more efficient. For example, a potato peeler. Ever thought about how much easier something as simple as a potato peeler can make your life? Well, after cutting and peeling all my veggies with a dull 70 cent knife for two months (everything must be peeled due to possible contamination of skins by dirty water), I've learned to appreciate such things. Even such a thing as a kitchen counter is a safi amenity, as I do everything from cutting veggies to scrubbing clothes until my fingers bleed and washing dishes with a dirty rag on the ground of my courtyard, seated on a broken plastic stool.

Life is just tough here, for everyone. All time is spent on everyday tasks: washing, cooking, farming, and taking care of the kids (though usually older ones are responsible for taking care of the younger ones- I've seen barefoot four year olds carrying two year olds tied to their backs by a piece of cloth). It takes all day just to survive.

And I wonder, what if Tanzania had all those amenities? Would they have more time to think and progress and provide jobs besides farming (or in some areas, attempting to cultivate dry, nutrient- poor dirt in the hopes of feeding your family and making enough extra for soap and buckets and matches)? Or is it the innovative, optimistic, opportunistic minds of America that make such things happen?

I refuse to give up hope

Sometimes this country frustrates me so much. First of all, Dar es Salaam is a dirty, disgusting, sketchy city with nothing to do. I walked all around city center over the last few days, and while there are a few (expensive) good restaurants, the city is basically just hectic and dirty, without sidewalks or anything interesting to see. Even the harbor and waterfront is dirty and smelly and somehow ugly (I’ve never known that the oceanfront can actually be so awful).

Granted, there are also plenty of good, nice people, which help cheer things up, and I really do love those conversations and interactions which really mean a lot but they're mixed in with not so fun interactions as well. Many men see me as a ticket to America, an inferior woman, so I have to shake those creepers off before I punch them in the face (just kidding). I ended up spending a lot of my time in Dar in my hotel room, and then a PCV friend also came and we watched some movies. I felt so lazy and terrible for lying around not exploring the city, but I'd had enough of that after two days. So I'll be excited to get out of here and back to my village and my town of Iringa nearby, so clean and nice and friendly and easy to get around (by comparison).

Then there was this morning, waiting at the bus stop and then getting on a daladala to try to get to the Peace Corps office. I'd done this a few times last week, but today was extra terrible.

We waited forever for the right bus at this awful huge bus stop, getting blatantly stared at from everyone who passed (the white skin and blonde hair kinda sticks out around here). I've mostly gotten used to the stares, but it still seems disrespectful to me for someone to stare for so long at another person, like I'm an alien from another world. And even when I greet them or smile, they don't respond; they just continue staring, stopped in their tracks. But oh well, I shook it off and got ready to get on my bus.

When the right bus came, I moved towards it along with a mass of people and we waited, chewing at the bit, while the conductor of the bus struggled to hold us back and let the current passengers off first. As the last woman was descending the stairs, the first guy in line broke through the conductor and ran up the steps, triggering a violent gnashing and crushing of the herd behind him to enter the bus. The woman trying to get off the bus got squeezed against the door and cried out in objection and pain, but her cries went unheard amongst the turmoil. As I shoved my way aboard, as politely forceful as possible (my PCV friend braced himself against the door to help me through), someone stepped on my foot hard. I almost lost my shoe as I was pushed onto the bus backwards, carried by the crowd. Luckily, I managed to get a seat and feel a tiny breeze through the window ahead on my way through the hot, sticky city before I arrived at the oh-so-gloriously peaceful (and air-conditioned) Peace Corps compound.

Apart from the sheer stress of such a situation, I wondered why this sort of thing bothers me so much. My PCV friend and I discussed it along the way, and we concluded that we’re just so frustrated with the chaos of this country and the impossibility of changing it. In our lives, we have both always been people to identify a problem, brainstorm the best solution, and believe in the possibility of implementing the solution to change the world (however small and seemingly insignificant that change may seem). Never before have we been presented with problems for which a solution is impossible.

There’s no way that the bus situation described above will ever be fixed because that’s just not how this country works. No matter how much everyone hates that system (or lack thereof), no one will take a step to change it and no one will pay attention to an attempt to change. The person who stands up to try to change will change nothing but his/her own opportunity to board that bus. People simply care more about getting on the bus and trying to get a seat to take them 5 blocks away than they do about the safety of those people or having an easy efficient way of boarding and de-boarding a bus.

And I see this impossibility in faces everywhere. People are always telling me how impossible things in this country are. As much as I want to inspire change here and motivate people to believe in the possibility of change, I, too, get bogged down with despair. How will these things ever change? How can they change?

In the US, most people have the mindset to believe in possibilities, and we have an environment in which change is possible. We constantly look for ways to improve on the current system, to make life better and easier and more efficient, to make more money, to be “happier.” And even though the stress and overwork that results from such an attitude exists, I do think we’re happier. We at least have the opportunity to be happier by choosing not to work too hard and overstress ourselves, while enjoying the beauty of such a small silly thing as a potato peeler (another blog on that later).

But here in Tanzania, there is no system, there’s nothing to understand no matter how hard I try to “figure it out.” Instead, there is chaos and the stress and frustration that goes along with it. How can anyone live at peace with that?

Maybe I’m simply frustrated today and it will pass with time. Maybe I need to find more hope and inspiration within myself and my support network so I can continue working to create that environment of “It’s possible.” Maybe it is possible, but I just can’t see a way right now and I need to keep looking and trying to get through, over, or just beyond the huge mountain looming over me.

I won’t give up on it. I refuse to give up hope. I refuse to stop trying.

I'm still alive and well

So I bet you're all wondering where in the world I've been and what I've been up to for the past 6 weeks or so. I'm sorry I've been terrible about blogging and sending updates lately. Internet time has been limited (and still is), but I hope those of you who read my blog have gotten updates through parents or other friends or emails or something. This will have to be a quick update, with more to come later (I'll start writing on my computer at site then bringing already written updates to send online when I come to town- the trouble has been that the power generator at my school only started working last week and it worked for about 4 evenings of two and a half hours each before it broke again; there's no other way to charge it in my village, though I can at least charge my cell phone for 30 cents at any barber/salon since they all have solar power, that is if it's sunny out).

First of all, I'm doing really well. There's certainly no need to worry about me. It's definitely a roller coaster of emotions and experiences, but for the most part, things are good. And they're improving, little by little. Every day, I learn more and more Kiswahili and speak more fluently. I find myself expressing thoughts and concepts more easily (especially "I can't give you money because I'm a volunteer and I only make enough to feed myself. I am here to teach at the secondary school..." and so forth).

Also, since school has started, I've talked a lot to the four other teachers and I hang out with them in the office and outside of school every day. I've started to really like them and enjoy their company. The women are still a bit reserved; they like to talk to me but they don't always have a lot to say. The men, who live on either side of me in our own little "neighborhood" (3 houses on the other side of the school apart from the village), are a lot of fun and talk to me much more. They're comedians at heart and they seem like pretty decent guys- one is 23 and the other is 25. They help me with my Kiswahili every day and get a kick out of teaching me their tribal languages (each area in Tanzania is dominated by a tribe with its own language in the same family as Kiswahili but also very different). Even last night, we all walked to the village to get our phones charged and then sat in a "bar" drinking hot milk. When our phones were finished charging (by power generator), we walked/tripped home in the dark, laughing the whole way, and then they invited me to join me for a late night dinner before bed since they had cooked a chicken that day. So it's nice to have some friendships beginning with people my own age.

I do wonder what the villagers think of me, though, always hanging out with men. Is that a bad thing? I never had to think about such a thing before. I think I hang out with them just because men are more confident and so they aren't afraid to come talk to the American and even practice their English sometimes. I guess I'm sort of an "honorary man" in some respects, though- I have a good education, I'm strong and confident, I wear pants when I go to town, I'm not married yet and live on the other side of the world from my parents- these are characteristics women just don't have, for the most part. But anyway, many more thoughts on gender issues to come...

As for school, it opened two weeks ago and I've succeeded in teaching all of two classes of two periods each. And I think that might be more than the other teachers have done. Not even half the students have shown up yet, either, which is the main reason we haven't taught yet. It takes a long time to register everyone and get their school fees (most students have trouble coming up with the $20 required to enter the classroom for the year) and then wait for them to clean up the school environment before beginning with studies. So I sat in the teachers' office at my newly claimed desk for most of the time, chatting with the other teachers (so fun to finally get to know them!) and preparing my order of topics for the year and lesson plans for when I actually start. I also took it upon myself to make the school timetable listing each teacher's schedule for the week. I loved it, since it was like a big complicated Sudoku puzzle to me, and I think the other teachers were glad to be rid of the work! Classes should pick up soon, which I'm really excited about because I can't wait to get to know the students and have them get to know me. I'm technically scheduled for 48 40 minute periods per week, though the school only offers 42 periods per week, and Peace Corps recommends we start with no more than 24 periods per week. So I'm working that out. I'm teaching Forms 2 and 4 Biology and Chemistry, and I really like a lot of the topics covered in these subjects for these years, so I don't want to give any of it up... We'll see.

Otherwise, I'm slowly integrating into my community, meeting people, trying to remember people I've met before, making friendships with the teachers, and continuing to work on my cooking and baking skills with a charcoal jiko (sometimes the banana bread turns out perfect and delicious, and other times the brownies turn out with the bottom 3cm as burnt blackness stuck to the bottom of the pot). I've been taking a lot of naps because of all the activity and stress of being constantly confused about what's going on and what I'm supposed to be doing, but I'm pretty happy these days and starting to settle into life here.

So that's all for now I think- I'll write about funny stories, my Christmas and New Year's celebrations, school, teachers, thoughts, etc. and post them within the next month. I'll continue working on writing letters to everyone and would love to receive mail here! Love you all!