Surprise Surprise

I distinctly remember having one conversation with a few individuals before we left for Tanzania back in September.

"Why do you think the other volunteers want to go?"

"I think some have intentions to help others, others to help themselves. I'm most afraid that some people will go with the only intention to return to brag about the 'hard life' they endured."

Let's just say, it was a telling conversation.

the worst thing that has happened

On a car ride to find the aunt of one of our street kids, we asked him: "what was the worst thing that has happened to you on the street?"

He replied:

"One day I was riding a bike and I fell. As I fell on my bike, one of the bike spikes on the gears pierced my penis. There was blood everywhere and, for the next month, each time I had to go to the bathroom, urine would painfully come out of the wound."

Dear Ebeneza,

I miss you.

It's been three weeks since I left Tanzania and I miss you so much. Looking at pictures of mine and everyone else's trip, I know you'd be so happy. Your picture is everywhere. I've been talking to many of my friends and family about my trip to Tanzania - I think you would be proud. You would be proud of your country, of your people, and mostly, I think, you should be proud of yourself. It's strange for me to discuss you and the other boys with other people. You guys were my best friends in my time there and helped me learn so much. I feel that no matter how hard I try, my descriptions and stories will not suffice. I hope you and your family are doing well. I hope you've been playing a lot with the kids in the house too! They're a lot of fun. I miss them too. Hug them all for me.

Love,

Dada Sue

Mimi?

First and foremost, thank you for the loyal readers who have followed this blog since day one. As I have found, I'm not the best blogger - too infrequent, often too short, and now, the blog is a misnomer. However, life goes on. =)

So as promised, here goes 1 of many, hopefully, of post-trip blogs.

A: Unaitwa nani?

B: Mimi?

A: Ndiyo.

B: Naitwa B.

...translation...

A: What's your name?

B: Me?

A: Yes.

B: My name is B.

After a few months in Tanzania and after my Swahili was no longer miserable, I noticed something very particular about the conversations I had with Tanzanians. Upon being asked a question about themselves, most Tanzanias respond with "Me???"

Now, being a foreigner and all, I figured it may be my lacking Swahili abilities. So I waited to eavesdrop on a conversation between two locals. Strange! The same thing happened.

I tried this many times: with kids, with my peers, with middle-age adults, with elders; with the wealthy, with the middle-class, and with the poor. "Mimi?"

I tell my good friend Lillian about this and she denies the existence of such a thing. I pull her to eavesdrop on another conversation and lo and behold, Mimi? is the first response given to any question. She tells me that surely she does not have this silly habit. I agree, sarcastically, of course.

A few days later, I ask Lily what she's doing that very weekend (in Swahili) and what does she say in response? "Mimi??"

I burst out laughing.

She caught herself right after falling into my trap. She laughed too, but then we began to talk about why this odd habit exists. She suggested low self-confidence and high self-doubt.

I asked another Tanzanian about this and he suggested it as a stalling tactic. By asking a question in response to another question, it gives the responder more time to formulate an answer.

Both theories seem faulty. It seems unlikely that an entire nation's people has low self-confidence and high self-doubt. Almost as unlikely, does it seem possible for a question like "what is your name" or "how are you" require extra time.

So with no other leads, I returned to America a month later, still asking the same question. Why oh why does this happen? One quick Google search later, I find a 12-page linguistic report on Swahili. Maybe that will shed some light. If not, maybe I need to change my major and find out for myself.

Mziki

Before all the heavy stuff we're supposedly going to post about eventually, I wanted to share some things that we learned while we were in Tanzania.

Music is a big part of the culture, whether it is traditional music or more modern music. I would try to say more about Bongo Flava, but honestly, I'm no expert. We heard it all over the place and of course, we're now hooked. So the magical YouTube has enabled me to find many of these songs and the music videos (I didn't even know they existed!).

So behold, the magical YouTube powers and enjoy this amazing music.

(Side note: a few are not from TZ. P-Square is a Nigerian hip-hop group whose music is mostly in English)

This first one is by a group called Nako2Nako. It is based in Arusha, TZ, the town in which we spent all of our weekends. Many of the street kids that we worked with admire these guys - with good reason. They even have a myspace! http://www.myspace.com/nako2nako however, none of their music is on the page...but they do have a more comprehensive background on them there.

This next song is called Bado Nipo Nipo. The song doesn't really start until 38 seconds into the song and I'm not too sure why, but it is super catchy. You may find yourself singing the three words you can understand for the rest of the day. "Bado Nipo" literally translates to I'm not there yet. If only there were translated lyrics online!

This one is one of Michael's favorites! Ignore the long beep at the beginning. I don't know if it's stylistic or a fluke, but the song then starts. For the longest time, I thought the song was saying "habari nokio" but turns out the song says and is called "Habari Ndio Hiyo," but sounds more like "habari nohio" because of the slurring of ndio and hiyo. It means: That's the news! If you're sick of these videos already, don't give up on the later ones! Just come back later and check them out. I miss them dearly.
 

This next one is one of my favorites. And as I did with many of the other songs, I was mistaken on the words of this one as well. The song is called Una and is by P-unit & DNA. The chorus which says: Una jump, unaruka, una shida, zina shuka, means - You jump (English), you jump, you have problems, they fall off.

As you can see, this song is big since it's being played on MTVAfrica. The video is of higher quality and clearly P-Square has a larger budget. However, no music set from my trip is complete without this song called Do Me. Enjoy.

Nyumbani

After almost two days of travel, Michael and I arrived safely into San Jose earlier tonight!

Lots more to come, especially pictures and highlights, but for now, Siku mwema!

The day has come

This past Monday, the first of 24 orphans moved into their new home. Baraka and Tumsifu are twins who lost their dad a year ago. They are three years old, but look half the age due to malnutrition. Their mother, left with 4 other children, was unable to care for them properly due to her mental illness. I first met them at Samaritan Village - they could not walk and did not make a sound. Now, just two weeks later, they are running around screaming their heads off. (I have a video of that in effect, but it'd take a day and a half to upload...so that'll have to wait)

There has been a whirlwind of events since I last updated. It has resulted in the loss of many of our volunteers. It's sad, almost tragic, that this is how we will end the volunteer program. All the times we've joked about how we should have a Survivor-type scenario with people getting voted off - happened all at once. Nonetheless, it is what it is and we do with what we have.



There was a beautiful rainbow out today - stretching from one side of Mt. Meru to the other side of our hill. Very picture perfect, unlike the ending of our program here.

On a different note, lots of things have happened with the "6 boys in Sekei". A week ago, I was about to give up on a few of them. After a strict talk with Joyce, Jacob, and Godi, their behavior improved. These boys have become some of my best friends here, despite the ever-present language barrier. (As I write this now, the boys are having more serious talks with OHS staff due to bad behavior, disrespect, and general guideline-setting for their time with OHS.) I'm going to miss them so much. We've laughed and worked together and fought and argued, but I think they now better understand our unique bond and relationship. It's hard, if not impossible, to know the personal influence, if any, I have had on these boys, but they have taught me so much about patience, poverty, persistence, loyalty, myself, Tanzanian street culture, and so much more. As my time winds down to an end, I can see its on the boys' minds as well. Emanuel asked me today, not when I will leave, but when I will return to Tanzania. Only time will tell.

We've been working on the cow pen, cementing the ground - hard, tiring work, but fun for sure. I've really enjoyed working along side these boys.

None of these entries end well or at all, but that's how it goes. Someday, I will return to this beloved place.

More on this later, I'm all out of Internet time for now!