Sauti Za Busara

Looking back at my blog, I've realized that it's a somewhat skewed view of my life here.  If I have a fun weekend getaway, it tends to show up, embellished with pictures.  Maybe some of you are left thinking "geez, Peace Corps seems like a piece of cake!  Dave seems to spend most of his time hanging out on the beach and visiting safari parks."  Unfortunately work is harder to talk about than fun.  The challenges are nuanced and I don't want to gloss over the details; naturally I worry that a "work post" on the blog will end up being mundane.  I promise someday I'll write a post telling more about my projects.... but not today!  This post is another unabashed parade of East Africa fun.

This weekend I went to Sauti Za Busara (Sounds of Wisdom), a music festival on Unguja, the main Zanzibar island.  I also went to meet with some other volunteers to talk about an English training we're running, but this post is a work-free zone.  The music festival was too exciting to write about anything else!  Artists from all over Africa came to perform, with an emphasis on East African groups.  There's everything from traditional music to hip-hop.  It was SOOO GOOD to get to listen to live music; it's one of the things I've really been missing on Pemba.  I wish I could tell the story in audio files, but pictures will have to do:

I spent the weekend with Juanito, Les, and Elgin.  Elgin is a VSO volunteer like Les and Juanito, and she was kind enough to put us up at her house on Unguja.  Here we are walking around the narrow, mazelike streets of Stonetown:

The festival was held at The Old Fort, one of the historical waterfront buildings in Stonetown.  Between the fort and the shore is a park with delicious street-food in the evenings.  It's one of the few places that caters to both locals and tourists.

Zanzibar Pizza stand!  The ingredients are mixed with a beaten egg, wrapped in dough, and then fried.

A typical food stand at the park.  Mounds of seafood!  Mussels, fish, crab, calamari..... yum!

After dinner, into the fort for the festival!  One of my favorite groups was Ndere, a traditional group from Uganda.  They had really energetic dancing, colorful outfits, and very upbeat music with lots of percussion.  Lots of hip shaking (the pictures don't do it justice).  At one point the dancers stacked pots on their heads (some several feet high), and they kept shaking their hips and singing throughout.

There were lots of interesting instruments to be seen:

On our second day on Unjuga, Juanito, Elgin and I walked around Stonetown, had some coffee, and went to the market to stock up on food.  One of the most noticeable aspects of Zanzibar architecture is the decorative wooden doorways.  Juanito and Elgin are walking by a couple of them here:

Stonetown has a bustling market with tons of variety; I was jealous of all the food to be had!  Juanito is buying chicken for our lunch here:

I got visit my friend Mchanga.  She goes by MC (she lived in Seattle for a few months and found "MC" easier for Americans to pronounce, and she thought it was funny to have a name similar to MC Hammer).  She's the daughter of my neighbor on Pemba, but is now living on Unguja and going to nursing school.  I was very happy to see her; she was one of the first people to make me feel really welcome on Pemba when I arrived there.

Second night at the festival!  Les and I bumped into Mussa, a friend from Pemba who like Mchanga is living on Unguja to go to school.  We danced up a storm with him!

More great music to be had!  I want this guys pants:

Yes this guy is playing two flutes in harmony out of his nostrils.

There was a group from Zanzibar with amazing belly dancing skills (again, pictures do no justice):

The last group I saw was Tumi and the Volume.  They're a hip-hop group from South Africa with some awesomely funky bass and guitar lines.  Social justice was a big theme in their lyrics, and they also were obviously trying to break down traditional ideas about what hip-hop and rap are supposed to be about.  In one song, Tumi was saying rappers shouldn't be put on such a high pedestal, and telling kids they need to turn down the music, turn off the TV, and listen to their mamas.

All in all a great weekend!  I took the ferry back home yesterday morning, sat on the outside deck, and got to admire the fishermen out on their dhows.

Happy Day!

It's a good week.  When making the commitment to Peace Corps, volunteers naturally have the notion that they are exiling themselves from home for two years.  But contrary to that pre-departure anticipation of exile, I feel so very much at home.  My house, squat toilet and all, feels like my house.  Power cuts, water shortages, concrete floors and lumpy mattress be damned, this is home!  I get that familiar feeling of comfort, coziness and relief when I return at the end of a long day.  It's my happy place.

The neighborhood kids have warmed up to me somewhat since my arrival (they no longer shout "Mzungu!" at me; we know each others' names; I try to amuse them by saying silly stuff Kiswahili; they like it when I play my Ukulele).  But there's still been a feeling that I'm a bit of an outsider; some of the kids are curious but keep their distance.

Today, for whatever reason, that barrier broke down a little.  When I got home the kids were climbing the guava trees next to my porch, picking the fruit for an afternoon snack.  They gave me a few, and I sat down with them on the porch to chow down.  Ramla, a little girl from next door who has been shy around me, decided today was the day she would warm up.  She started by playing with my hair (lots of kids are intrigued by the texture of European hair), and this progressed to us making funny faces at each other and eventually her climbing all over me like I was a jungle-gym (as 3 year-olds are apt to do).  A few other kids caught on to the idea, and soon enough I had a small group of 3-6 year-olds crawling all over me.  It felt really good just to goof around with them.  Playtime and laughter breaks down language barriers like nothing else.

All the physical contact felt really good too- touching pretty much doesn't happen here unless you're shaking hands or crammed on a bus.  I miss hugs and being close with people.  A good dose of little kids climbing all over me was just what I needed.

Tonight I sat out on the porch with two of my neighbors: 13 year old Zuhura and 5(?) year old Yahia.  Zuhura's a riot- she's got a sassy sense of humor and is often poking fun at me. She's also a good singer.  We traded off singing- I played my Uke and she sang some songs from India that she knew.  Yahia sang along in gibberish English with my songs.  Zuhura told me that she got good marks on the exit exam from primary school, so on Monday she's heading off to start secondary school at a good boarding school an hour away.  I was proud of her and told her congratulations, but it makes me sad that my neighbor and singing buddy is going away.  At the same time, it was nice to realize that I've grown close enough to some people to miss them when they're gone.  I've made myself a home!

Just a couple of pictures this time, but I'm extra fond of them.  Quality over quantity!

Christmas part 2!  My family somehow fit all these presents in one box!  I laid them out, made a cup of coffee with extra sugar and powdered milk, put on some holiday tunes, and set about a late January Xmas.

Power outage = Internet by lamplight

Fishbowl

I was writing in my journal the other day, and reflecting on the fact that everything here has begun to seem  impressively normal.  When I arrived, every sight, taste, sound, and smell seemed to be exotic.  Africa!  The word elicits ideas, romantic or otherwise, of a wild place, untamed, culturally alien, primordial maybe.  A different world.  But we humans are made to adapt.  Drop a Tanzanian in America and after 6 months they won't bat an eye at an interstate freeway or fast food.  Put yourself in Africa for the same amount of time and you'll be happily eating monkey brains like it's oatmeal.  Ok, maybe I'm exaggerating there.

But of course, it's when you think you've settled in that life starts throwing curveballs.  Yesterday I headed up to Kiuyuumbuyuni (Kiuyu for short- that word's a tongue twister for me) to help with an English training at a school there.  It's a very remote corner of Pemba Island; I had to take two buses for over an hour and then bike 20 minutes up a rocks-and-sand path to get there.  Quite a pretty area, actually.  But off the beaten path enough that almost no white people ever go there. 

About a mile from the school I rounded a bend, and in front of me were hundreds of uniformed children, stretched along the road as far as I could see.  The local primary school (an overcrowded one, from the look of it) must have just finished their day, and the students were all walking home along the side of the road.  The first ones stopped in their tracks, mutely staring at me.  I don't know how many white people (wazungu) they've seen in their lives, but I would bet it's countable on their fingers, if any at all.  As I reached the first group of them, a cry went up.  All of a sudden, they were all shouting, and a wave of little-kid screams spread down the line: "Huyo!!  Huyo!!" (basically means "that guy!!").  And as I passed them, the kids started running behind me.  Soon I had a giant procession of kids running behind me shouting shouting shouting.  I didn't know what to do other than keep going (I was late for my appointment).  I definitely had to laugh at myself about my situation- "How did I end up riding down this sandy road on an island in the Indian Ocean being chased by hundreds of uniformed children?"  I eventually reached the college, a haven of adults, who are maybe equally capable of astonishment as children but more adept at containing it.

This definitely was the most concentrated "fishbowl" experience I've had here.  Usually I'm happy to stop and interact with kids who are curious about me, but it wasn't really practical with hundreds of them at once, especially when their mood was bordering on hysteria.  And it was definitely a reminder that no matter how normal life here feels to me, no matter how "integrated" I feel, there will always be this basic factor of skin color that seperates me, making me an anomally to everyone here.  It's a factor that never quite goes away in any situation.

In other news, I had a very fun new years, visited Unguja (the main Zanzibar island), and got to show a Peace Corps volunteer from Kazakhstan around Pemba.  We swapped a lot of PC stories, and it was fun to show off where I live.  Guests are always a good excuse to do the fun things where you live that you never seem to find time for otherwise.

Pictures!

Alleyway in Stonetown, on Unguja Island

Ferries moored at Stonetown.  These are the nice ones that I ride between Pemba, Unguja and Dar Es Salaam (as opposed to the not-nice ones, which have a tendency to sink....).

Not sure what we're doing, but I think we're having fun.  Prison Island, Unguja in the background.

Giant Tortoise on Prison Island.

VSO buddies Les and Juanito join me for dinner at my house.  First meal on my new kitchen table!  And my Christmas present "butterfly" world map is freshly hung on the wall!

Pemba buddies hanging out at my place with Catherine, our visitor from Peace Corps Kazakhstan

Catherine meets the students at my college for a Q&A session and to teach some English learning games.

That's a fish.  Gettin' cut in half.  I buy fish from little stands like this pretty frequently.  Yum dinner! 

Visiting my friend neighborhood friend Omar (middle, with his brother on the right and father on the left).

Fav-oo four-aes, dav-oo door-aes, welcome Christmas, Christmas day....

So I'd expect that Christmas in a nearly all-Muslim region would pass like any other day.  But no!  It's not even noon yet, and so much Christmas cheer has come my way....

-Lots of people here know it's Christmas, and when I went out grocery shopping, I got asked a lot how my day was going and if I had any special plans.  Even kids in town who usually shout "Mzungu!" as I go by instead were shouting "Christmas!"  It's said in the same impersonal tone, but I'll take it.

-I had a hot chocolate epiphany!  A week ago I got some gourmet hot chocolate mix in the mail from Katie.  Somehow moisture had gotten into the packet, so it was a sticky paste instead of powder, and when I mixed it with hot milk it wouldn't dissolve, and thus would not release it's chocolate-hazelnut deliciousness.  Oh noes!  But this morning I had an idea!  I mixed in the paste and then boiled my milk, and voila!  It all dissolved and I had delicious hot chocolate with breakfast!  The weather here is way too hot to warrant warm drinks, so I was sweating buckets by the end of the second mug, but totally worth it!  I then took a cold shower and felt amazing.

-Katie also sent me Candy Canes.  Delicious!  Enjoying one right now....

-A lot of kids bug me for money and gifts around town.  They are especially persistent at the end of Ramadhan, when all the adults are giving out little gifts and candy.  But today I turned the tables on them!  "Today's Christmas; your turn to give me a gift.  Give me money!  Give me candy!"  Predictably, they had nothing for me, but they stopped pestering me for the day.  I wish everyday was Christmas- I could pull this all the time....

-I've got the Christmas music going:
    Brass albums by The Canadian Brass and The London Brass

    The Grinch Soundtrack (see title of post).  Even without the video, this makes me really happy and reminds me of being a kid.  "And what happened then? Well in Who-ville they say that the Grinch's small heart grew 3 sizes that day.  And then the true meaning of Christmas came through, and the Grinch found the strength of 10 Grinches, plus 2!"

    Trans-Siberian Orchestra (over-the-top rock and roll adaptations Christmas standards, sent to me on a flash drive from Katie!)

    And of course Handel's "Messiah."  Duh!  We all listen to that one right? Right???? Ok maybe not everyone....

-I got the following text from one of the guys in my English club:
"Happy birth day Ooh! Sorry...! Velentine day.... Shit!  Good morning, no,no,no,no...! Oh yes, i want to say.....happy christmas."

-Last but not least I found 20,000 shillings I didn't know I had (about $12).  Woot!  Merry Christmas to me!

Christmas cheer abounds!  One of my best gifts was last night's sunset at the port:

Port buildings from the pier

Boats in the channel between Pemba and Fundo, a small island to the west

Men finishing up their day's work

Ahhhhhh.....

Sundown on Christmas Eve

Kilimanjaro!

First vacation in Tanzania: success!  It was a nice gift to myself after finishing my first 3 months at site.  It's also been 6 months since I got to Tanzania.  I've been in the Kilimanjaro region visiting my friend Riah, who's site is on the lower slopes of the mountain.  We had a pretty awesome time; lots of delicious food, plenty of sleep, and lots of lush scenery on the slopes.  The food highlight of the week might have been veggie-bacon burgers (yes, veggie burgers with bacon.  Delicious!). 

One morning we visited Riah's counterpart Catherine (the teacher at her school who she works most closely with).  She and her husband Alex are incredibly friendly and welcoming, and they have the cutest daughter ever, Joan.  Catherine made us a traditional Chagga dish (the Chagga are a neighboring tribe of the Maasai), and served it to me in a traditional bowl for Chagga men.  During our visit I got drowsy, and disappeared for an hour to take a nap on one of their beds.  This might seem a little odd, but is very acceptable behavior here.  It's one of the things I love about Tanzania: being sleepy isn't considered rude, and you're genuinely encouraged to take a nap when you want one. 

Pictures!

Remnants of the two ducks we had for Thanksgiving

My VSO buddy Juanito and I at breakfast in Dar Es Salaam before my trip to Kilimanjaro

Amazing English breakfast in Dar.  All you can eat cheese bar included.  I died and went to heaven.

Alex and Joan.  Daddy and Daughter.   =)

Me (with my Chagga man-bowl), Riah and Joan

Joan finishes the leftovers.  Precious.

Riah, Joan, and her mommy Catherine

Kilimanjaro!

I get sick, I get better, and the Aggies Win

So I survived my first stomach bug since getting here.  I figured it was bound to happen at some point.  I haven't figured out exactly what I ate that did me in.  36 hours later I'm feeling fine, thankfully.

After staying inside since Thursday, I ventured out of my house this morning to buy groceries.  There's a small market near my house that I walk by everyday on my way to town.   I stopped at my favorite stall to buy the essentials: potatoes, eggs, bell pepper, onions, and tomatoes.  The two women who work there asked me where I had been the last few days.  I was surprised they had noticed; I don't buy food there everyday.  They must notice me passing by all the time (I do stand out around here).  I told them I had been sick, and they seemed very concerned that I was doing alright.  Did I have malaria?  Did I see a doctor?  Did I take any medicine?  Was I 100% better?

I guess even being sick has a silver lining; it was nice to know that people noticed I was missing.  Also it reminded me about the difference in community here.  In the States, close friends and family MIGHT know when you're sick or have some big problem affecting you, but usually if you hide in your house for 2 days no one will be the wiser.  People here are sometimes more interested in my personal business than I care for (e.g. a few weeks ago I had a Canadian girl visit who is doing her grad research here on Pemba.  I showed her around town one afternoon, and the next day everyone was convinced that she was my wife, fiance, or "special friend").  But sometimes that interest is ok- around here I never feel that I'm invisible or that no one cares.  It's a feeling we've all had at some point, and it's not one I miss.

Just read online that the Aggies beat Sac State to close out their season!  Woot!  Congrats to all the Aggie Band officers who are finishing up their year!

Beach Corps

If I go to Hell, it'll probably be for gloating (it's sorta like Pride, so it could be one of the seven deadlies), and with this post I may just be digging myslef a deeper hole. 

I could use this post to complain about difficulties I'm having adapting syllabus topics into a more teachable order, but why bore you when I can make you jealous?  So out with it:

I live on a tropical island.  It's awesome.  Every night there's a beautiful sunset over the Indian Ocean a mile from my house.  In the past few weeks I've been to a two amazing beaches, complete with white sand and turquoise water.  Vumawimbi Beach is on the North end of the island and is sequestered from society by a surrounding forest preserve.  The only way to get there is on a narrow dirt road which is usually waterlogged and is being encroached upon by the jungle.  And then there's Misali Island.  A small little oasis in the ocean; you can walk around the island in an hour.  It's open for day trips only, so it's wildlife and coral reefs are well preserved.  The coral is just about 50 feet or so from the water's edge.  The peeling sunburn on my back is proof of how much my eyes were glued to all the life on the ocean floor.

To avoid sounding like a stuck up jerk, let me frame it this way:  You chould come and visit me.  All of you.  Don't think about the cost of a plane ticket.  Think about the white sand and turquoise water.  Just do it.

In case you need further coaxing, here's pictures:

Juanito strikes a pose at Vumawimbi

Vumawimbi Beach

These fine gentlemen landed a boat, unloaded, and soon had their goods on a truck heading inland.  Smuggling business alive and well on Pemba....

The road through Ngezi Forest to Vumawimbi beach

Justin, Doug, Laurie, and Dave (not me- were you confused?) about to board a boat for Misali Island

Out on the water, island in the distance

Misali Island!

Landing at the beach

Snorkling! Dave (my twin, not me, dagnabit!) and Justin are ready to go