Reflections

*My kids getting ready for the Kili 5K on March 2! We're stretching here, about to go out for our weekly Wednesday jog. Run Leyeyo run...*

I’m officially entering my 6th month in the big city of A’town and while missing Manga, my old village, doesn’t sting as much, I still miss that life dearly.

I recently received the following phone message from my friend, Kate, who replaced me at my site, which sums up my longing perfectly, succinctly:

“I just bucket-showered with fresh rainwater by a crank lantern overlooking the sky spackled with moonlight. I ate an entirely homemade dinner with a fresh, salted avocado for dessert to frogs and crickets serenading. I’m now reading a book by candlelight with Nyota (my old dog I so graciously passed down to her – okay, she may say otherwise; Nyota’s a bit on the hyper side...until 8 pm and then, she’s absolutely lovely) cuddling at the bed’s end...how will I ever live in America again?”

Precisely. And sometimes I ask myself, how can I be living in Arusha? No, I enjoy Arusha, but jamani, do I miss that life, that beautiful life!

Some differences I’ve noted so far between Northern and Southern TZ:
• Tanzanians own cars up here! And they have business cards
• Chai or a cup of tea costs 500 TSH (50 cents), which is more than double the price down south. Most fruits and vegetables are double or triple the cost from Makambako's soko
• No stars are visible :( I miss village stars
• Street slang is a whole new language I gotta learn (“Voda fasta!” “Longer longa”!)
• I am late here (my village meetings started roughly 2 hours later than announced; so where as I was accustomed to a 2 hour late factor; it’s now 15 minutes tops! I was left last week by my boss for being 3 minutes late. No joke)
• My neighbors are almost all United Nations staff from countries like the Congo, Kenya, Burkina Faso, etc. and are not so down for cooking ugali in their kitchens with me :)
• There’s no more need to start boiling bath water 2 hours in advance – now a hot shower is a flip of a switch! Hot water heaters are a beautiful thing
• Locals eat meat daily here whereas in Manga meat-eating was a treat reserved for special holidays like Christmas and weddings. Full stop.

To clarify, this Northern region (Arusha and Kilimanjaro) is where the top 2% of Tanzanians reside, from a financial and education standpoint. Some days I feel like I’m in a different country.


*Falls just outside of Moshi in Uru village - a great day trip*

On the upside, Arusha offers many advantages such as: a varied social life (Kumbe! What’s that? say all the PCV’s in the house :) my ‘old social life’ - if you can call it that - consisted of a monthly rendezvous at the Chani hotel in my banking town and bike ride overnights at Amanda’s, my closest neighbor’s, site – not complaining here as those were good times; just please note the word “varied”), amazing weekend options in gorgeous natural surroundings like hiking Mt. Longido, Mt. Meru, visiting natural springs and even wine tastings, like last week at a local lodge set along a river, and being intellectually challenged at work and in general, surrounded by a more educated group of Tanzanians. The latter may be what I most appreciate. It's certainly a nice step for my career if I am serious about pursuing International Development, in addition to crucial for my thesis research (the electricity and ubiquitous access to the internet helps, too).


*On the top of Mt. Longido near the Kenyan border with Samantha, good friend and co-worker*

My new life in the big city – and more specifically in my new house (with running hot water and electricity) - also translates into having more guests (mostly Peace Corps), which is of course enjoyable, but means a heck of a lot less reading and writing time by candlelight, which I cherished in Manga. So to those of you noticing a slump in the writing department, that’s why. Pole. And if I’m not hanging out with my guests, I may be eating out with friends or people I work with – again, this is new for me. Most of my nights are now filled. Ahh, urban life vs. village life – what a difference! I’m experiencing a new side of Tanzania and despite my whining, I am grateful for all that it’s teaching me.


*On the hike to the falls - with new friends Pearl and Adam*

On a more personal level, I’ve definitely been tried of late by an overarching lack of integrity at my school and around town. It’s something I’ve noticed since the early days in TZ, but that I was able to deal with because it was on a smaller, less noticeable level in the village (aside from the rapings/forced sex of girls by male teachers and older men). Honesty and ‘being true’ is something I’ve realized I value to the extent that it pains me when others don’t – to the point that I take it personally. For instance, I have a hard time forgiving the kids I’m giving my ALL to every day when they steal bike parts, food or what have you from school. Essentially, they are robbing themselves. They are stealing the items which would have gone to their own betterment (i.e. the bike parts would have fixed a bike they in turn would have sold, the profit of which would cover their own teachers’ salaries, as well as the breakfast and lunch they receive every day)...but clearly, they’re not thinking this way.

The more I’ve sat and ruminated on this frustration, the more I’ve realized that Tanzanian people are never taught integrity as a quality to value really; therefore, somehow they are not to blame for this behavior. I know this may sound crazy to some, but it’s true. There’s no such thing as an honor code (sorry for all you Westminster alums out there:); cheating is rampant in schools. Teachers have even been known to help their students cheat because it augments their reputation, as well as the school’s which in turn, secures their job, their monthly paychecks.

Moreover, there are very few, if any, consequences for cheating and lying. It’s overlooked by most and forgiven...and thus, the next day, it continues. The vicious cycle persists in homes, schools, businesses and in society at large which is clearly a major cause for the country’s high HIV/AIDS prevalance. Faithfulness to one partner is so rare, the practice is practically scoffed at. Few Tanzanians believe that a man or a woman could possibly remain with one person forever.

Stealing, lying and cutting corners is a way of life for most here – as it is for many living in extreme poverty; “being dishonest” (moral relativism eh?) may mean their child eats more than 1 meal per day or that they can afford secondary education: meeting basic needs, in other words. Can I blame a mother for stealing food to feed her starving child or the orphaned boy who steals an item (like fly wheels from our bike shop, say, because this is what actually occurred last month at school) he can sell in town to buy himself some shoes?

Sure, these dishonest ones may claim they’re Christian or Muslim, but they seem to overlook the simplest of commandments like not stealing or committing adultery. Even the most religious, educated, professional (government workers, for example), and seemingly dependable of Tanzanians take great freedom in these departments – so much so that it makes it difficult to live and work here. Who can I trust?

And what am I to do? Do I respond as many expatriates do who have spent years in country and view this downfall as merely “a cost of living” in Tanzania? Should I forgive my kids for stealing...again? When is enough enough? Should I give in to bribery and see it as “just the way it is”? I have a hard time doing this morally. I guess I need to choose my battles and find that line - that thin line of when I should take a stand and when I should just let it go and forgive...that, and focus on all the positives aspects which outweigh this negative part of life in Tanzania. I may have come to country an optimist, an idealist, but I'm growing into more of a "realist optimist," it seems; losing some naivite isn't all that bad...

A close friend asked me recently if I ever get tired and want to throw in the towl. Yes, I do, especially on days when my most precious values are challenged, when my kids don't seem to care or appreciate my efforts, or when I see hopelessness in their eyes. Those are tough days.

I have a similar sentiment coming face to face with a street kid downtown glazed over, high on glue - without an ounce of hope in his body, not a soul caring for him in the world. Or when I visit students' homes and find 10 people are sleeping in a 1 room shack, often flooded by rains and muck...the mom HIV positive...her 18 year old son already the father of a child and his girlfriend preparing to deliver again soon. And they're eating one meal a day, if they're lucky. Or interviewing potential students, youth ranging from 18 to 21 years of age (as I did this last Thursday), who are still sitting at home without a thing to do, jobless since they graduated from 7th grade 5 years or more ago. Just sitting. Waiting. Deciding who's the most vulnerable for our next intake of students is laughable, really. Who's not vulnerable? Sometimes I wonder, where is God?

And I get tired more often when I'm not taking care of myself, doing what I need to do to stay balanced. It may come across as selfish, but this is what I've discovered is the secret to not burning out and becoming totally overwhelmed by the injustices of life here as a Peace Corps volunteer, as a person living and serving abroad...and perhaps for life in general: the more we take care of ourselves, the more we can take care of others.


*Magnificent Mt. Meru. Reminds me who's boss. Yupo*