Dave in Tanzania: August 2012

We interrupt our normal blog services to bring you this special post! I'm deep into the "lost months" of my service: All the Pemba schools are closed from mid-July to mid-September (first for Ramadan, then for the national census, which is staffed by schoolteachers). Not much work to be done these days. What's a volunteer to do in times like these? Start a new and ambitious community project? Hit the books and master Kiswahili? Drink copious amounts of bucket wine? None of the above! Instead, I've been enjoying a much anticipated visit from my fiance Katie (Did I tell you I'm engaged? Oops, sorry! I'm engaged. There.). We've been living it up here in the land of cheap and delicious octopus and white sand beaches.

What am I going to write about on this special occasion? Absolutely nothing! I'm too busy soaking up the rays of awesome. Instead, let me introduce my guest writer and better-half-to-be, K-"os" Mann, who I'm sure will you give you a fresh perspective on the joys of the Tanzanian bus system, pit toilets, and washing clothes by hand.

Hi there blog readers, this is your special guest speaking. I think Dave will soon be uploading some actual snapshots, but I'd like to give you some literary snapshots of my time here.

1. Dala dala dala dala dala
Hey look, here's an old japanese-made minibus chock-full of people! Kids, babies, parents, merchants with their wares, women with live chickens in their handbags, grandpas, grandmas, you name it, and on top of all that there's the daladala konda (conductor) hollering and hanging half-way out the door for lack of space. Let's get in! Now we're bumping along the road in Dar Es Salaam or Njombe or Iringa or anywhere really and I'm standing on someone's foot but that's okay because someone is standing on my foot while I'm trying not to fall on Dave who's sitting with a stranger's baby in his lap. That's public transit. Whew!

2. Ugali
As far as I can tell, volunteers here talk about three things when they get together. The first is food, the second is poop. [more on this later]. Let me tackle food the Tanzanian way.
Part a) Eating at home.
First, no matter what the meal, you make ugali -- a white, firm-yet-sticky- yet suprisingly pasty corn flour mash that acts as a vessel for picking up your other food. And is utterly tasteless. But oh the wonders you can smash into it by the fingerfull: maharaga (beans), samaki (fish), boiled greens that I forget the name of, savory red sauce with hidden bits of meat, mmmmmm.
Part b) Eating at home when you're sick of Tanzanian food.
Volunteers here get creative. Man oh man, the things I have seen concocted in kitchens with no running water, no electricity (that means no fridge), and the closest market a 50 minute walk away. And the closest source of wazungu food (e.g. margarine) a 2 hour daladala ride away. But no matter! cinnamon rolls, whey bread, ricotta cheese, pierogies, tortillas and guacamole, home-made mango wine, oatmeal cookies... And that's all done over a charcoal stove, folks.
Part c) City Streets
If you live in a happenin' town, you've got options. Walk down the street at night and sample chipsi mayai (french fries in egg with spicy sauce), orojo (everything-soup), pweza (grilled octopus), sugar cane juice, skewers of gristly beef, hot milk, turkish coffee, oranges and maybe if you're really lucky you can even find mystery-flavour soft serve ice cream.

3. Poop
Typically, one squats over a pit toilet. And cleans with water instead of using toilet paper. The worst smelling choo (toilet) in all of Tanzania is at the bar in Njombe town near the bus stand. Recent excitement: a volunteer here fell neck-deep into a pit choo in the dark late at night and had to be pulled out. Apparently she laughed.
Also, don't eat the shawarma in Stonetown unless you like spending lots of time on the choo. That is all.

4. Vacation time!
Travel to Zanzibar and find what are supposed to be the best coral reefs in all of Africa. Take your snorkel or don't even take your snorkel just dive into the water off Misali island and you're swimming inside one of those "mysteries of the sea" educational underwater life imax films, face to face with a beautiful landscape of multicoloured broccoli forest coral. You're diving deep enough that your ears ache, but it doesn't matter because you're in the middle of the tropical fish tank at the aquarium. Clown fish, angel fish of various kinds, schools of little fishies, tropical coloured bigger fish, giant clams that suck themselves in when you approach... And the tidepools are populated with hermit crabs, funny looking green coloured crabs, and all manner of starfish and sea slugs. Accidentally step on a sea urchin and you're in terrible pain BUT you've got a permanent souvenir of sea urchin bits embedded in your foot. They're not coming out.

5. Volunteer culture
They speak in acronyms and kiswahilized English. They speak of food, poop, and whatever juicy internal volunteer gossip is going around. Sometimes they speak of hardships at their site (conflicts on the job, trouble integrating, "is what I'm doing really helping anyone?", life before getting the solar cell and single lightbulb, africafe coffee) or what they miss of america ("did you hear that xxxx just got a care package with RANCH SALAD DRESSING mix?!?!?!") but mostly they speak of their everyday life in a very different culture. Not to mention food. And poop.