From Tears To Smiles

(Written on April 16, 2012, but not published due to internet delay)

The hours had been starting to take a toll. Although the countryside and even assigned reading were interesting they couldn’t comfort the dull ache of leaving Arusha earlier that morning. Arusha, with its cool temperatures, beautiful green rolling hills, and wonderful people who had become family, had completely and utterly felt like home. I was comfortable walking around the big busy town without a worry, ordering and eating food uncommon to most Americans, and talking with locals. All of that was being left like the dust settling behind us. When we finally reached Dar-Es-Salaam (after a delay by policy wanting a bribe) my heart sunk. 

This is a city of 6 million people. Skyscrapers block out the stars, cars jammed together closer than sardines, homeless people slept on cardboard beds and lots of noise overcrowded me. Oh how I cried for just wanting to be someplace away from the big city…I was never more Mill City-sick than on the first night in Dar-Es-Salaam.

I fell on the bed utterly exhausted emotionally. Krista and I had waited for 6+ hours to go home with our new host family that would hopefully start making Dar bearable for the next moth. Our wishes had been crushed. We did get placed with a host family, but (due to unseen complications) our professor and his wife would also be with us. After having a wonderful father figure in Arusha for January who was gone most of March I was looking forward to seeing another. After dinner I was positive that was not going to be possible. Instead of building personal relations with Baba, I listened to my professor question him on his role and history as Arch Bishop of Tanzania. The wonderfully big luxurious house (on American and Tanzanian standards) felt more like a prison with all the formality. It seemed all had a certain role to play with a painted mask instead of being oneself and building relationships.

The first couple days of being with the host family was hard and the worst part was no one else would understand. Bailey is living in a family with no running water how can she (or others in the group) understand that a modern housing arrangement doesn’t mean it’s a comfortable home with no relationship tensions?

Although I dislike pessimism, it would be lying to say at this point I was very optimistic about the month in Dar. But sometimes when we hit our bottom and question what good could come from this, God reminds us that his timing and ways are not always ours.

Story sharing with Mama in two-hour traffic jams to go 20 km home each day lead to many unexpected good times. Stories, humor and understandings are so important for becoming familiar with another person. Although it would take a long time to tell all the stories here, the important thing I can communicate now is that these stories started to break the ice. It started with Mama Grace laughing at our awkward stories from the previous three months and then further back. Then with Baba Askofu (that means bishop) telling stories. It started to be comfortable to talk to him as just another person rather than an important bishop. With our two younger brothers Jeremiah “Jerry” and Joseph “Jo” it was easer to connect with (even though Jo has autism). Never doubt the importance of humor!

Krista had an American friend coming from Mozambique and all the housing plans she had arranged in February fell through a few days before he was to come. However, Mama was understand and insisted on picking him up from the airport, having him over for dinner, and late found a hotel for him very close to our house. Us three were able to have so much fun and break more ice with the family. One of the major ways was through food!

In order to show appreciation to Mama and family we three (slightly crazy and ambitions) Americans made a Mexican burrito dinner including: 2 salsas, special bean mix, rice, cheese, guacamole, flour tortillas (from scratch), meat and an amazing dessert. Oh it was wonderful to have fellowship together. Now we all feel like friends and family with no more play masks being put on.

When the sun shone I realized that God had even blessed the location of our home. Anytime during the day if one is silent (yes I can even do this) no traffic horns, people yelling or music blaring can be heard. Instead the birds chirp in trees by day and crickets compose new melodies by night. Sure classes by day are still in downtown Dar, but every night home is a haven for a tired traveler.

It’s hard to think only a week and half has passed since coming to Dar. Sure it’s hot (not as bad as Zanzibar), but there is so much to be happy for that there isn’t much room to be bummed out about. The hours are flying by way to fast, but light as happy as cool whip. God really does know how to change situations that cause tears into those that warm the heart with smiles. J

From Tears To Smiles

(Written on April 16, 2012, but not published due to internet delay)

The hours had been starting to take a toll. Although the countryside and even assigned reading were interesting they couldn’t comfort the dull ache of leaving Arusha earlier that morning. Arusha, with its cool temperatures, beautiful green rolling hills, and wonderful people who had become family, had completely and utterly felt like home. I was comfortable walking around the big busy town without a worry, ordering and eating food uncommon to most Americans, and talking with locals. All of that was being left like the dust settling behind us. When we finally reached Dar-Es-Salaam (after a delay by policy wanting a bribe) my heart sunk. 

This is a city of 6 million people. Skyscrapers block out the stars, cars jammed together closer than sardines, homeless people slept on cardboard beds and lots of noise overcrowded me. Oh how I cried for just wanting to be someplace away from the big city…I was never more Mill City-sick than on the first night in Dar-Es-Salaam.

I fell on the bed utterly exhausted emotionally. Krista and I had waited for 6+ hours to go home with our new host family that would hopefully start making Dar bearable for the next moth. Our wishes had been crushed. We did get placed with a host family, but (due to unseen complications) our professor and his wife would also be with us. After having a wonderful father figure in Arusha for January who was gone most of March I was looking forward to seeing another. After dinner I was positive that was not going to be possible. Instead of building personal relations with Baba, I listened to my professor question him on his role and history as Arch Bishop of Tanzania. The wonderfully big luxurious house (on American and Tanzanian standards) felt more like a prison with all the formality. It seemed all had a certain role to play with a painted mask instead of being oneself and building relationships.

The first couple days of being with the host family was hard and the worst part was no one else would understand. Bailey is living in a family with no running water how can she (or others in the group) understand that a modern housing arrangement doesn’t mean it’s a comfortable home with no relationship tensions?

Although I dislike pessimism, it would be lying to say at this point I was very optimistic about the month in Dar. But sometimes when we hit our bottom and question what good could come from this, God reminds us that his timing and ways are not always ours.

Story sharing with Mama in two-hour traffic jams to go 20 km home each day lead to many unexpected good times. Stories, humor and understandings are so important for becoming familiar with another person. Although it would take a long time to tell all the stories here, the important thing I can communicate now is that these stories started to break the ice. It started with Mama Grace laughing at our awkward stories from the previous three months and then further back. Then with Baba Askofu (that means bishop) telling stories. It started to be comfortable to talk to him as just another person rather than an important bishop. With our two younger brothers Jeremiah “Jerry” and Joseph “Jo” it was easer to connect with (even though Jo has autism). Never doubt the importance of humor!

Krista had an American friend coming from Mozambique and all the housing plans she had arranged in February fell through a few days before he was to come. However, Mama was understand and insisted on picking him up from the airport, having him over for dinner, and late found a hotel for him very close to our house. Us three were able to have so much fun and break more ice with the family. One of the major ways was through food!

In order to show appreciation to Mama and family we three (slightly crazy and ambitions) Americans made a Mexican burrito dinner including: 2 salsas, special bean mix, rice, cheese, guacamole, flour tortillas (from scratch), meat and an amazing dessert. Oh it was wonderful to have fellowship together. Now we all feel like friends and family with no more play masks being put on.

When the sun shone I realized that God had even blessed the location of our home. Anytime during the day if one is silent (yes I can even do this) no traffic horns, people yelling or music blaring can be heard. Instead the birds chirp in trees by day and crickets compose new melodies by night. Sure classes by day are still in downtown Dar, but every night home is a haven for a tired traveler.

It’s hard to think only a week and half has passed since coming to Dar. Sure it’s hot (not as bad as Zanzibar), but there is so much to be happy for that there isn’t much room to be bummed out about. The hours are flying by way to fast, but light as happy as cool whip. God really does know how to change situations that cause tears into those that warm the heart with smiles. J

Teaching is Learning

                                                                                                                                     (Wrote on Friday)

     The desks are empty. The floor is swept. The rooms are quiet. The blackboard is blank. Memories float like ghosts throughout the warm rays of afternoon light floating in. A child’s smile. Another’s tears. Quiet times with testing minds working hard. Loud times with preposition learning way back on day one….It is hard to think I have one more bus ride till I too am leaving school. Dust will soon settle in the month long vacation that started today at noon. However, this past month has opened so many windows and doors that have helped me learn so much on a profession and personal level. Lessons that will forever influence me as a teacher.

            Individual desk; computers; lined, poster, colored, loose leaf paper; tape; laminators; roll call sheets; books; printers; copiers; break period; glue. In any of the schools and lesson plans I’ve ever had before these are just some of the many assumed resources available to use. That is not the case here. One of the biggest things I’ve learned this month concerning my profession is the need to teach to the students’ needs with the resources available. There is no corner store you can pop over to or a fully stocked supply room just down the hall. However, just because resources may seem limited doesn’t mean to give less to students. With an old puzzle book (missing its pieces), a thin cover over a sample big book, two pieces of old cardboard from calendars, 8 brass brackets, old letter head paper from Minnesota stuffed in old boxes, and markers I was able to create a small class set of clocks to help teach time. Most of this was either in the garbage or just a quick look around. Sometimes the best resource one has is their commonsense and focus on topic. I have never taught or researched any of the lessons I did throughout this month. I just knew there was a purpose that needed to be grasped in 70 minds and prepped for that…and sometimes I abandoned the written plan and adapted to haw the students were responding. That is the second thing I learned: adaptability is not spontaneity and need to follow the purpose one is wanting to achieve. This could be in confirming to existing order or other teachers’ ideas on some things or adapting own style to order, lesson structure and activities as the students’ learning requires it. This could also include getting out of the teachers’ lounge to do fun class community bonding experiences to strengthen teacher-student relations. I have really learned professionally how important it is to have positive relationships and communication between students, teachers, and administration. This helps so much with classroom management and the learning environment. Instead of a teacher just holding power (mostly in the form of the cane) over students to either fear or not care, trust, respect, and understand of each other is needed. Using resources wisely, adapting with a purpose and emphasizing positive student-teacher relations are three things that I learned in the professional setting.

            Sitting in a lecture with undivided attention is hard. Jumping into conversations with new acquaintance is petrifying. Letting anyone know about me without safety walls is unthinkable. Whenever I’m in a classroom these feeling melt away and I am at a confident peace in what I am doing. One of the things I’ve personally been affirmed is how alive I feel around students. No matter how little sleep I got or how bad a morning I dealt with, I don’t feel (or remember) any of it until after I return home for the day. When there is a student around, it doesn’t matter that they ask repetitive questions or need to go to the toilet, but that they can learn and understand what is required of them. At school it’s not about me, but the students. Along with focusing on students’ needs, I also have learned to set aside nay thoughts of peoples’ judgment and jump into something new and goofy with a fun attitude and high energy. This was most apparent to me when I taught the students an new repeat-after-me-song called “Pizza Man” and we did it while other teachers, administrators and students roamed about. It may not make MTV’s top 20 song list, but the kids love getting into it. Now whenever I see them I do the Pizza Man sign and they copy it silently to the bewilderment of those around them. This also has strengthened my relationship with the students as they know I allow time for fun and noise, but also require silence and diligence to work at others. I am more comfortable being myself and having confidence in my abilities with interacting with students than I do anywhere else.

            No one chooses a major and spends three years at a private liberal arts school working for it without an inner drive. When I was a freshman in high school I had the assignment of researching something that related to me personally. While I was watching a commercial with beautiful African children’s faces on it, I heard a voice as close to my ear and as deep as my heart saying: “This is what I want you to do.” I did my project on HIV and AIDS orphans in Africa and have spent the past seven years working towards the goal of teaching someday in East Africa. Finally being here, if only for a month, has positively and completely confirmed my perspective of teaching. I feel such freedom in doing God’s will and knowing He gives me peace and confidence to keep going. This trip has come at a perfect place in my life as I still have a year at Whitworth where I can use 1^st world country’s resources to prepare me to return here after graduation. I feel more at home here than I have in many other settings in the states. When I’ve designed lessons and taught for practicum in the states I’ve always had the moto “This is helping me somehow to prepare for God’s will” and it’s been reaffirming to see how it has prepared me and how eager I m to learn even more.

            The courtyard is silent. The canes are idol. The lunchroom is vacant. The buses are parked. Warm air rustles the leaves. Time keeps going. Sometime it is slow (pole pole) like a chameleon, while other times it is fast (haraka haraka) like a cheetah. Throughout it all I have learned more about myself professionally, personally and my future as a teacher. 

Colours. Experiences. Life.

I sit in awe. My back is propped up against a sun-warmed rock while the tips of my toes dangle off a 50....100...500...1500 foot (?) cliff. Below me lies the green blanket of dense forest broken only by the dusty well-worn paths of those who travel it daily. Silver ribbons of smoke twist and curl into the twilight sky as if dancing their way up the heavens and ultimate freedom from their ember foundations. I breath in. The long day of heat is radiating back up from the rocks. Although a good thunderstorm attempted to keep it down, the dust still swirls about on the breeze. The high elevation makes breathing harder, but causes my heart to skip as it gradually slowes down. I listen. On the right-hand ridge comes the swaks and calls of villiage folk, probaby enjoying some homebrewed sugarcane beer. A hourse ragged moo echos out from below me, although it is is hiden from view. High in the ever changing sky, swoops and soars a giant black bird (less likely an eagle; more likely a vulture) calling all below to pay attention to his glory. As the clouds bubble ontop of each other making and breaking formation, the sun's tired rays shine beneath them as it slowly goes to bed. Soon the sky folows and turns off it's soft peaceful colors of gold and pink to turn into a deep bedtime blue. A day in Lushoto is coming to a close.

This past weekend (Fri. 17 - Mon. 19) we gathered as a collective group for a workshop/break at the edge of Lushoto's rim. This is the first time since the Maasi villiage two weeks ago that the whole group has been together since despersing for internships and homestays. Here we were able to enjoy five star meals, hot showers, mosqueto free nights, exploration, but most importantly talk with Steve and Suzan Vincent about their last 30 years working with Villiage Schools International around Tanzania. From talking about adapting to culture to seeing how important it is for the community to be involoved, the weekend really was a great break to set aside God time, friend time, and just think. (Thanks to Steve and Suzan's son Jonathan I was able to do alot of this at the location described above.) Here are some of the things I've been pondering.
First, in what ways has this trip influenced me? In short: every. Can I explain it yet? Honestly? Nope. Spiritually, mentally, emotionally, physically I feel like....I've popped my head out of the water after diving in really deep. From having a completely new and different diet, language, people group, living environments, and atmosphere in general I'm not sure how I've shifted...but I have. I really wonder how I will be able to leave here...a place that is feeling more and more like home every day with children and people I care deeply about. Yes, I love and miss you all back in the states, but....sigh, there is just so much. Which leads me too...

Second, what am I going to do when I get home? I have limited myself to not daydreaming about May 10th and 11th, but this weekend my brain (both waking and dreaming) set up plans that I now have mixed feelings about. I get home on the 10th around 7:30p.m. (according to the current schedule) where I hope to be picked up by my grandparents, taken to the lake for stories, popcorn, spoonfull of crunchy peanut butter on vanilla icecream, hot showers, and a big comfy bed. Then waking up somewhat early (I am determined NOT to have jet lag!) to a breakfast of scrambled eggs (no salt) with cheese, slice of toast (or pancakes) and a big glass of super pulpy OJ, before heading off to Whitworth in jeans, crocs, shirt, sweatshirt?, and toe socks that have not been worn for the past 4+ months to catch up with anyone done or out of finals. Then on Sat (if Philip could please wait that long) driving down to Mill City where I can finally paint nails with Mom, bike with Dad, walk in the middle of the road, cook, and just have tons of fun. Those right there are my current dreams; however, like I said before, I have mixed feelings about these. What if I jump back into American fast-pace society too fast? It is still weird just to wear jeans around the house after school once every other week or so! Am I going to be able to feel confident and safe about driving after dealing and growing accustomed to being on the "wrong" side of the road where there really are no traffic inforcements? How is the food going to taste after being accustomed to stuff totally different? Can I get used to the constant talk, music playing, texting...busyness of life?

Third, how amazing of an experience this trip has been!!!!! (No questions asked about it!) Everyday things still kindof feel both familiar and unreal. Walking to the bus stop the other day I got hit in the head by an avacado (I better understand Newton now:). Doladolas drive by with sayings like "God's Yes is stronger than Any one's No" and "Proud to be Muslim" and "B' Real" posted on them are more recognizeable then the Hollywood ones that take me a minute to think what it says. Donkeys, cows, dogs and chickens still get in the way of foot and motor traffic. Dinner is eaten on the couches while watching Bollywood with English subtitles that don't always line up with speaker's timing. Walking into a classroom and having the whole class stand and say "Good morning, Teacher." warms my heart. Walking over, around, through forests in Lushoto is fantastic...AND THIS HAS ALL BEEN IN THE LAST TWO WEEKS! Yes, I have mixed feelings about coming home home and not being able to share all stories to the depths which they should be, but I am even more eager and excited to see how the next 50 some odd days pan out.

Fourth, what's to come? This week has been pretty chill. I taught about the calendar on Tuesday, which was a little more interesting then expected when I wrote the date "March 20, 2012" and was promptly told by 36 geniouses that it wrong. Trick question of the day is it? (To them yes; dates are written English style with day then month then year.) Wednesday - Friday is end of term testing which means I have been in the library making tangible teaching aids or proctoring tests. Saturday and Sunday are catch up on homework days which includes writing a ton of reflections and getting a jump on my policy paper about punishment tactics at school. (Sneak peak: It's about the fact that a resent law states that only the headmasters and administrators of a school are alowed to cane a student; however, teachers have not been trained in other ways of dealing with misbehaviors and continue to do so. My paper is about educating the educators on proper management that is now lawful.) Monday is a day of parties for the end of semester. Tuesday I may be teaching English at Juvie or grading papers till Thursday. Friday is my last day at the school and where I have to turn stuff in. On the 31st we say good-bye to host families (Not wanting to think about how sad this is going to be) before heading off on an 8 day safari. Plans have changed so we aren't hiking Kili, but I do get to go to an elephant research/wildlife place so that's a plus.

Then off to Dar for a month of learning and exploring before leaving Africa on the 8th, lay over in England for 22 hours, then home home. Yes, the homework deadlines are cruching closer, but don't worry, I got it all undercontrol, colour coded and getting conquered daily.

So, this is where I stand right now. I love God. Am trying to understand life. Care for family and friends around the world. Have passion for teaching including the spontaneous moments. And just plain ol' happy.
PS. Sorry about lack of sunset photos...I do have them....just on the camera that is at home and not with me at the hotel...ooops)

Buses, Chalkboards, and Fun

Yellow buses still take students to school. Homework is still assigned and received with groans from students. 9003.3 miles away from Whitworth University in Spokane, Washington, USA students are learning at St. Margaret’s English Medium School in Kisongo, Tanzania right out side of Arusha.  It has been very interesting to learn about how the location, school and classroom dynamics influence this learning environment.

            St. Margaret’s English Medium School is located outside Arusha in Kisongo. With the backdrop of baby blue sky, puffy white clouds and the sky stretching Mount Meru standing proud, around 500 students and twenty faculty ride twelve packed school buses over concrete, dust, and gravel to attend school. This school is located about 20 miles outside of heavy populated Arusha, and practically out in the middle of nowhere. When it rains bus drivers have to worry about hydroplaning on clay-saturated mud, and when it’s dry dust cakes everything. Local herdsmen (typically from the Maasi tribe) heard cows, donkeys, goats and sheet along the roads and pass the school. It’s not uncommon for a donkey to interfere with a recess game of soccer. :)

            Students, teachers and administration make up the school demographics. As mentioned previously there are about 500 students enrolled in primary and grades 1 – 7.  Each number grade is divided into two sections (cliché named A and B). Throughout the school English is strongly enforced and monitored. However, in the teachers’ break room and on the bus kiSwahili is slipped back in. All students are African, but come from different places around the continent. There is also one young student who is Albino. The staff is completely African, including the two student teachers. Mama Tesha established this school in 1996 and moved it out to its current location in 2003 after great sponsorship by the Friends of African Association based out of Minnesota. Many of the students attend school thanks to the sponsorships mainly based out of America.

            I have been placed with Mr. Mwendo who teaches Class 3 English. This includes IIIA that is comprised of 36 students with 6 that admit to not reading English and IIIB with 35 students and 15 that admit to not being able to read English. Class is taught primarily in English, but Teacher Mwendo use kiSwahili for clarification, or to tell the students to behave sometimes. The classroom is very untypical from any in the states. There are no posters, books for fun, student work posted on the concrete walls just the examination results which are glued on with Elmer’s. There is a chalkboard with a duster that floats between the two third grade classes. Students stand up when they give an answer, great you with scripted welcome, or getting the cane. They spend lots of time just sitting in their desks waiting for a teacher to come in and teach. These are my classroom demographics. Our class day is broken up nicely with me teacher IIIB before tea, IIIA for after tea/before lunch, and then plenty of time to grade or "mark" up the exercise books that I assigned. I also have had time to go help out in the library last week primarily when students were taken (late) end of the month tests. 

            From the three characteristics of the school listed above, it has been interesting to see how they influences the education as a system. Due to the location and the need to take school buses to and from school, teachers do not have the ability to stay after to work on projects. Whatever they want to do they must do the majority of it while at school. This leads to many breaks for both them and the students. The school demographics of being relatively new paired with location means that there are not abundant resources for teachers and students to use. All work is copied off the blackboard which takes time and lots of chalk. The classroom set up is one based on the principle that students are “blank slates” that need to be filled. All answers are recited without much creativity or leeway for answers. If something is not perfect or if they are lazy in any sort of way, they could get caned. All of this makes up the learning environment for the students and where I teach. 

             I have had the pleasure of teaching quite a bit starting on day one when I was told I would just be observing. Prepositions, spelling words, clock, and reading are just some of the activities that we have done. I try to keep students moving and learning with fun, but it is hard with 36 students and a slight language gaps, and not many resources to use. All in all I am loving it and can't wait to keep teaching. Unfortunately I don't have very many more days, but it has been such a blessing. I don't know how I will be able to leave at the end of the month as there is so much I want to do here, but will see what happens. For now though I continue to ride a bus that is packed full with students, write on chalkboards and have tons of fun! 

A Maasai Weekend

We drive along a central highway leaving the busy Arusha life behind for a fees days. The hills of green start to fold upon eachothwr as we drive on. On the side of the road. Hildren are picking up rocks into a bucket. Others are sweeping a road. Still others are making a ditch for sewer. We drive on. Heards of cattle graze about. The bus swerves to avoid a ram pet black cow which has decided it will out do any chicken and cross the road. We drive on. With the wind polishing checks smooth, children wave to us and I wonder if it is the first time they have seen white people.... It would be easy to see how they rarely do. We turn off of the road and are soon very thankful we are in a safari cargo vehicle. What little water is in these parts as created small trenches through the dry heavy clay filled lands. We weave our way this way and that wondering where we are going or how our driver knows the way. Eventually stop under a big acacia tree and get our. We have arrived at a Maasai village.


Although there are hundreds of tribes in Africa, the Maasai of East Africa are one of the most commonly known. These tribesmen are known for their red cloaks, bead work and cows. In their eyes all cows belong to the Maasai tribe and not to others. Look up some of the ledgens of why this is if you'd like. Cows provide a crucial part to their culture. Not only to the sled their days leading them to greener pastures for meat, milk and dung are also crucially needed. The huts are pastered with cow dung instead of mud as dung is easier to get and works just as well. (Truthfully you can't smell it as it dries hard so don't get too gross out by this.) they are also occasionally used as fuel for the fire like pioneers on the Oregon trail did.Besides having cows they also have plenty of goats and sheep to make for an abundant herd.

It is tradition for Maasai to honor the visit of a guest by slaughtering a goat and then having a feast. They were more than overjoyed to have 14 wazungus (white people) come to their village and wanted to show us all their traditions (skip reading paragraph if you don't want to learn about this tradition). First thing we did was walk out where some animals were grazing and picked out a healthy not too fatty white goat. We then took him away under a different tree. Interesting fact: the Maasai suffocate animals instead of spearing them or taking a knife. This way more blood and nutrients stay in the meat. So after that was done they started to carefully skin the animal (who one girl on our group named Gene). Then pretty much it was like dissecting a biology project to get sections of meat ready for roasting. Nothing ever goes to waste in this tradition. One of the common drink is blood as it has plenty of nutrients. A coffee cup was soon brought over and filled from the animal. Although the elders thought we wazungus were whimps, the offered us the cup. So, yep I can say I have tasted goats blood. It tasted pretty much like a bloody nose... GROSS!!!! But hey I live in the moment and want to experience everything! Then the animal was roasted on a fire and we were offered pieces. I don't know if it was the mode of cooking or the suffocation, but the meat tasted way too similar to the blood for me to eat alot of it.

Later that night we we're offered the oreviledge to spend the night in the village. So after all the cows came home, we went to a hotel for real-er food, we came back ready for anything. Fur of us went to a hut where we had tea made from milk (either goat or cow) that we had watched them get earlier in the day. Besides being surrounded by smoke it was really good to sit and talk to them. They are surprised Americans only ever have two kids usually while they have anywhere from 6 to 11. They told us about having to fight off lions, hyenas, and elephants and we attempted to tell them about mountain lions. Did you know that a hyena can eat 59 goats in one day? That's a good chunk of change and life for the Maasai. After tea it was to sleep on a cow pelted bed next to the cow dung wall. I slept remarkably well dispute the fact that there were others in the room and a baby cow was also there.

The next day being Sunday and all we went to a church. Although it was suggested to be longer than 3 hours of a service it was relatively short and well done. The music was amazing with the African voices raising up tradition songs to God. Our host translated the message from Maasai to English for us which was really nice and also really cool. During the service there was a celebration for a child bring born to a mother and father that had experienced 5 miscarriages! A goat was brought in for some reason, and was then auctioned after church! It was really great to see how community oriented they are.

This weekend was amazing! Besides the fact that it looked like scenes from the Lion King, it was great to about in the wild and really know that God provides and takes care of His children everywhere. I also got to see into Kenya, meet really great people, and have experiences that are going to be forgotten any time soon.

The Everyday Usual

  Walking to school everyday is a seemingly usual thing, but it does show a lot of the life in Zanzibar I have been living with. The main roads are paved, but not the ones leading between houses, apartments, and around parks. These are dusty and full of garbarge. There is no well established waste management system to go door to door like in the states, so people just thrown their garabage out in piles on the ground. About once a week a pile is loaded into a metal box where it is then burned up. It's not the most ecofriendly way to do it, but it gets rid of the garbage for a day or two, before another pile begins. Along this walk, we also get shoots of "Harbari?" (How are you?) "Mzungu!" (Word used to identify white people) and "Hello!" from kids making their own way to school. Walking to school also involves walking over roads that do not have painted lines or traffic speed sign. People cross when they can and traffic continues to flow. Roundabouts are also a very big thing here, enabling traffic to keep moving in a systematic way without having to use stop lights. Walking is overall the easiest way to get where you want to get the fastest. There are a labyrinth of allies that lead to shops, coffeehouses, and the beach that are quicker than going around in a taxi that will charge you the Mzungu price instead of the local price.

Shopping is alot more fun here than in the states. You walk into a cut out of the wall place and barter to get the lowest deal. Because I am white, the price always starts out higher than normal, but a little Swahili can go a long way in making sure you get the best deal. There are lots of shops full of paintings, flipflops, and articles made out of kangas. The street markets where they sell fresh vegitables, fruits, and spices, are also fun to walk around. Some of the products I have seen before, but most I have not. THere is also a fish market where stalls are set up with people hacking or stacking fish. A chicken market is behind that where twenty or so chickens wait under a woven basket to be sold. People in the market are always very friendly and you need to be warry to make sure you keep you camera at a tight hold.

Fashion here is so wonderful here. Women wear black robes (buibui) and very colorful scrafs. Occaisionally the robes will have shimmering designs along the cuffs and on the back some. The headscarfs are tight to thier faces conceiling all their hair underneith. Men typically wear jeans and a shirt with a Muslim hat on top. There are also some men who wear more modern clothes like shorts, but that is usually just for swimming or playing football. You can pretty much assume that if I woman's head is uncovered and a man has shorts on they are tourist.

Entertainment is pretty similiar to the states. On the television there is a news station in Kiswahili that is kindof hard to understand and follow allong, but thankfully thier headlines are very informative and in English (kingeresa) so that helps. There is also a channel that only shows movies so I have watched a variety of movies in the evenings with the family. There is also Nat Geo Wild which is in English with Arabic subtitles that the kids and I watch often for the cool animals. Even though there are two young kids in the house, there are very little toys. This leads to playing with the same ones over and over again, or just playing games that don't involve objects like tickling or singing a song with motions called "Si Mamma, Kaa"(Stand Up, Sit Down) that exorts a lot of energy!

These are just some of the usually things that my life on Zanzibar consists of.