Sunday, November 27, 2011

A Tanzanian Thanksgiving

Last week was the first time since I’ve been here in which I’ve felt any semblance of homesickness. All of my friends were discussing their upcoming plans to see each other during their Thanksgiving breaks, my extended family was getting ready to make the trip to Los Angeles, and everyone was preparing their Thanksgiving dinners. It made me miss home. But, Kim and I decided that even though we would not have access to our highly craved pumpkin pie, we would create our own Thanksgiving. We went to Katie, an American that lives in the same complex as us, and to Happy, the Tanzanian woman that owns the complex and asked if they would be willing to participate in Thanksgiving with us. Katie was excited to have a Thanksgiving dinner, and when we received permission from Happy to take over her kitchen for the day (we don’t have an oven), we set out to find the necessary materials to create a traditional Thanksgiving dinner.
Part One: Arusha
   
On the Wednesday before Thanksgiving, Kim, Edward, Happy, and I all piled into the car and set off to Arusha, which is a slightly larger town about an hour and a half away from Moshi. During the drive, Happy remarked that she was excited to learn how to cook mzungu (white person) food, to which we responded that we were also excited to learn how to cook mzungu food, considering Kim and I both thought of ourselves as pretty much useless in the kitchen.
    When we arrived in Arusha, we first set out to find a turkey. Neither of us were prepared to take on the task of a cooking an entire turkey, so we decided to get turkey breasts. It turns out that turkey breasts in Arusha are quite expensive, so we were only able to get one two-pound breast. But what’s Thanksgiving without turkey? After arranging for our turkey to be ready by the time we were planning on heading back to Moshi, we went to the Masai Market.
    The Masai Market is quite an experience in and of itself. When you pull in, you are immediately assaulted by women sitting on the ground behind blankets of African crafts attempting to sell anything that they can. When you venture further into the market, people shout at you saying, “Karibu (Welcome)! Looking is free!” And when you pass by a shop without going in, they will go on to talk about how obnoxious it is that we didn’t stop at their particular stand (thank you, Kim’s Swahili). After purchasing a few token African crafts and gifts, we headed to an area of Arusha called Njiro, which houses a large, western supermarket.
    Walking into the Village Supermarket immediately prompted some culture shock. There were piles of imported goods--everything from Rice Krispies to Pantene shampoo to Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups (which were from Canada and were called Reese Peanut Butter Cups, which was slightly off putting) to Doritos. At first it was incredibly overwhelming to see all of these items in one place, but it quickly became fun to see so many things that I had not seen in so long. In addition to giving into a few of our cravings (ie: Reese Peanut Butter Cups), we left the supermarket with cranberry sauce and a few other things for our Thanksgiving meal.
    Following a delicious lunch, we headed to the Arusha food market, which was one of the most overwhelming experiences of my life. Before even entering the market, you are immediately hounded by people trying to sell you various fruits and vegetables. One you get into the market, the hounding only worsens. When we finally escaped, we went to our car as quickly as possible with bags of fruits and vegetables weighing us down.

Part Two: Cooking
   
    Let me preface this section by saying that Kim and I do not cook. And prior to Thanksgiving, the one time that we cooked a legitimate meal (for three people) took at least three hours. So to say that we were anxious would be a bit of an understatement. We set out to make pumpkin soup, stuffing, and turkey. With no guidance other than Happy’s knowledge of Tanzanian cooking and the recipes that we found online (our initial search featured the words, “Thanksgiving for Dummies”), we started chopping and boiling and heating and baking and stirring. With the turkey in the oven and the stuffing ready to be baked, the pumpkin soup was our main concern. Spoonfuls of honey, tons of cinnamon, a cup of coconut milk, two boiled pumpkins, and one blender later, Kim and I tasted the best pumpkin soup that we have ever had. Maybe that’s a bit of an exaggeration, but I’m telling you, this soup was incredible.
    Everything came out well, and Kim and I were quite impressed with ourselves. Happy made vegetables and chicken (to make up for the fact that our Turkey would serve 3 of 15 people planning on showing up) and Katie came baring a sweet potato casserole and mashed potatoes. When everyone arrived, Thanksgiving began.

Part 3: The Meal



    After rushing home to shower, we were ready to eat. Everything was delicious. We made Edward carve the turkey, claiming that it was the man’s role, and had a great time introducing Tanzanians to one of our favorite American traditions. Everyone was impressed with what we made, and if you exclude the fact that we were not able to make a pumpkin pie and that a football game was not in the background, we had a traditional, delicious, eat-until-you-can’t-move Thanksgiving.
    Even though I didn’t get to see my family, my own little Tanzanian family made Thanksgiving a great and unforgettable experience.

Tuesday, November 22, 2011

Juvenile Detention Centers and Tanzanian Flexible Time

First, I would like to apologize for my extreme lack of diligence when it comes to updating this blog. If I had to come up with an excuse, I would say that it’s due to the fact that I’m having too much fun to write, but really, there’s no excuse.

I figured I would dedicate a part of this post to the place that I have been regularly volunteering at: Moshi’s Juvenile Detention Center, or Mahabusu ya Watoto.

When people from home inquire as to what I have been doing in Tanzania, the conversation normally goes something like this:

     Person at home: “Maya, what have you been doing in Tanzania?”
     Me: “Well, in the mornings I volunteer at a Juvenile Detention Center…”
     Person at home: “Oh my God! Is that scary?”

Because of this frequently recurring interchange, I would like to establish that Juvie is in no way scary. (This is not to say that when I was first informed that I had the chance to work there that I was not slightly anxious.) Part of this may be due to the fact that they are all incredibly small, most of them having suffered from malnutrition as small children. In fact, for my first month at Juvie, I had assumed that most of the boys were ten or eleven, but when I asked, I was informed that the youngest boys were thirteen. So, as you can probably imagine, it would take a lot to be intimidated by a sixteen-year-old boy that looks more like he’s ten.

At home, one often associates Juvie with people who have committed a legitimately serious crime. This is true, but at home, we have a (relatively) un-corrupt legal system, where in Tanzania, corruption is a common as a speeding ticket. This means that many of those who are sent to Juvie are there for reasons that would receive barely a slap on the wrist in the states. Boys in Tanzania are sent to Juvie for anything from homosexuality to talking back to a teacher, and even for being too far away from home. More often than not, boys are sent to Juvie because of theft, which frequently occurs when there is no other way for them to get food.

Everyday when I walk through the gate, I am swarmed by shouts of “Mambo (what’s up?), teacha Maya!” The boys are often playing a game of surprisingly intense soccer (many soccer balls have been lost over fences and popped by loose nails) with makeshift goals constructed out of scrapped wood that are constantly falling apart.

After they make themselves breakfast, we start the day by asking what the date is, and what the weather is like outside. In unison, they repeat after me or one of the other two teachers saying the date and then the weather, which frequently has them simultaneously chorusing, “Today, it is hot and sunny outside.” Next, we hand out their individual notebooks and they get started on a math warm up. Some boys are still mastering basic addition and subtraction, others who are working on algebra, and everything in between. We divide them into groups as best as we can to allow them to receive the most useful assistance.

When math is done, the boys have a break, or “breki,” as they fondly refer to it. Some will go into the courtyard to play soccer, and others will rush up to us begging to use our iPods, and will then spend the subsequent fifteen minute break playing a song of their choice on repeat.

The rest of the day differs—sometimes we’ll bring in a science experiment for the boys to conduct, other days we’ll teach them about different cultures. We’ve had them make paper airplanes and test to who’s flew the farthest. We dedicated a week to the five senses, and another week to colors. We normally end the day with a story.

Every Thursday, however, we show them a movie. Their favorite movies normally consist of overtly violent fighting scenes, they love all Jackie Chan movies, but they also love random Disney movies—Ratatouille is a favorite.
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This past weekend, Knock conducted a Health/Wellness Seminar in a village just south of Moshi Town, called Kikavu. To prepare for the seminar, I made flip charts, typed out worksheets in Swahili (which, let me tell you, is no easy task—and I unsurprisingly made a decent amount of typos, which Kim fixed), checked expiration dates on condoms, created schedules, and, with Kim, assembled and stapled 800 packets.

Although the preparation was slightly tedious at times, the seminar went well and I was glad that I was a part of it. At 6:45am on Saturday, Kim, Max (Knock’s Tanzanian Managing Director), six teachers, and I all piled into a van and set off to Kikavu. The seminar was set to begin at nine, but people did not start to arrive until around eleven. This is partly due to what locals fondly refer to as Tanzanian Flexible Time (TFT) which means everything starts later than it’s supposed to, and partly due to the fact that at 10:30, some guy with a megaphone walked around the village announcing that we were serving free food, and that we were not conducting HIV/AIDS tests.

Nevertheless, by 11:30, there were about 200 people (which is still half as many people as we expected) congregated underneath the tents that Knock rented for the two day event. Once things finally got going, everything went seamlessly. Everyone was engaged and interested, and a lot of great questions were asked. The teachers helped the participants understand the issues that their community faces and everyone seemed genuinely happy to be getting this information.

It was an interesting day and I was glad that I had an opportunity to participate in it and experience it.

I have just under three weeks left in Tanzania, and I can’t believe how fast it has gone. I can’t wait for the next part of my gap year, but I’ll definitely be sad to leave.