Tanzania NOW!
Future 2012 Volunteer makes Headlines!
June 2012 volunteer Marisa Ranieri tells her local newspaper of her experience in Eastern Africa and her expectations for the year ahead!
Read the full article in the Auburn Pub.
Hongera by Nicole Janes
Last Thursday after I had settled into my post-school afternoon routine of sloth, my headmaster called me. Without a clue as to why he would be calling me of all people, I answered my phone. He immediately introduced himself- “Nicole, it is Mr. Elia, headmaster of Nakalulu Secondary School.” He then went on to say that he had received a letter inviting him to a nearby primary school graduation the next day and that he, Abe and Lu were unable to attend. His purpose: he wanted me to go in his stead. There was no escape. I asked if I had to say anything at the event, and he replied that we would discuss the details in the morning. I then prepared multiple possible ensembles for the event and readied myself for another awkwardly forced social situation. 
Friday morning Elia gave me three talking points: thank you for inviting me, congratulations to the Standard 7 Leavers, and welcome to Nakalulu next year. I asked if I should speak in Swahili or English. He laughed. (I later had Lucian write up a lovely mini speech in Swahili.) Because I hadn’t the slightest clue where the school was, Elia allowed me to bring a student for company. Whew. When I went to the Form 1A classroom to ask who wanted to be my guide/BFF for the afternoon, Abe was giving them their daily dose of science. I had two boys in mind, but I instead asked Abe to choose a student for me and retreated to the staff room to await his decision. Later, sweet Robert walked up to my desk and whispered, “Madam, I go with you to the graduation.” As we prepared to leave, Samweli ran out and said, “Madam, let us go.” Aw, my two first choices. (Apparently, he asked Sam first, but a miscommunication led him to choose Robert.)
The boys proceeded to lead me through a veritable maze of houses, fields and back roads all the way to Mkumbukwa Primary School. With blind trust, I followed them. Along the way, I learned that Sam and Rob are neighbors; Rob grows papayas; there is another soccer field, though where it is I could not begin to describe; and Mkumbukwa is Nakalulu’s feeder school. Eventually, we came out to a road where the boys talked Kindali with an old woman who had lots to say about me. From there, we went up the hill on which Mkumbukwa rests. Sam pointed out the school soccer field, and Rob showed me a mango tree that the kids scavenge during the rainy season. As we drew closer to the school, we saw a horde of children dressed in blue and sitting underneath a cluster of trees. Sam told me, “Madam, they will see you and come running.” I said, “No way, they’re used to me by now.” I was wrong. The boys took me to an office where the school’s headmaster greeted us. I must say that I have never met a bigger, jollier person in my life. Football coaches would’ve salivated over him in his youth. He joked with the boys, asked me to sign the guestbook, and then took us to his home where we watched television while the day’s festivities were prepared.
After two hours, it was finally time for us to join the kids under the trees. I was given a seat next to the guests of honor, and I mortified the boys by making them take seats of distinction beside me. The graduation ran a similar course as that of Nakalulu’s, but on a smaller scale and (to my dismay) with less booze. The kids sang, danced, performed a lively and adorable sharobaro skit, and did gymnastics. I have pictures of all of this, plus one of the little ones playing in the dirt during the speeches and another that captured some of the wigs that the 
Standard 7 girls were wearing. (I have a great scene in my head of these girls and their mothers at the salon. A lot of whoo’s are involved.) Much to my disappointment/relief, the headmaster did not ask me to give my (Lu’s) speech. After the guests of honor spoke, it was time for the students to walk across that patch of dirt and become O-level students. Mothers swarmed to put leis around their children’s necks, pose with them, yell at the photographer to take the picture, and then take off the lei for the next child. When that chaos was finally over, the adults went to a room to eat while children peeked through the windows. (I made faces at them.)
After a heaping plate of rice, I bid adieu and made my way to Isongole to retrieve my bicycle. On the way, I ran into groups of Nakalulu students, mostly Form 1’s, who “Hello Madam”-ed me and giggled over seeing me in the real world. A quartet of primary school girls followed me, and we had a riveting conversation of broken English and Swahili. As we approached Isongole, they mysteriously splintered off the way that only gypsy children or Munchkins can do until finally I was walking down the backstreets of Isongole alone.
Observations about Tanzania – five weeks in by Lauren Godfrey
1. markets are an overwhelming experience if you aren’t prepared for them
One of my favorite pastimes in the States is going to the farmer’s market on Sundays. It is relaxing. I stroll through the different stands and see what I want. In Tanzania, it is the exact opposite experience. Everyone from within a 20km radius comes to town. I hear “mzungu” and “habari” everywhere I turn. Now I still like shopping at the markets, but the first market day I went to in Rulenge, the scene shocked me. On a typical day, the center of town is absolutely dead. They are some taxis and pikipiki drivers biding their time. Some locals are looking around the dukas (shops) for essentials. The only food for sale is tomatoes, onions, and green bananas. On market day, everyone is in town. There must have been thousands of people there. The open spaces are filled with lines of people selling food in one section. Another section has lines of used clothes. After that, household goods like cups, plates, basins, and cooking pots, fill the area. I was not prepared for the 180-degree turn, but it is fun bargaining with locals and getting amazingly fresh food.
2. public transportation is never boring and always over capacity
So far in Tanzania, I have taken dalla dallas (the local bus), bajajs (a three wheeled covered buggy), pikipikis (motorcycle), taxis, ferries, and private car. I plan on using the long distance bus system on my September break and I am sure I will have a story about that. This weekend Ali and I ventured to Ngara to visit two other volunteers and buy bread because there is no bread in Rulenge. Anyway, we took the local taxi. I asked my pikipiki driver to find a good driver for us and he arranged for someone to pick us up at 10am. The car pulled up about 15 minutes after 10am. It was a Toyota station wagon. Inside were nine people plus the driver. Somehow they managed to fit Ali and I too. We sat in the backseat plus a small child, a woman, and one the students at my school. In the front passenger seat, there were two people and the driver shared his seat with a passenger. In the trunk, there were three men plus a tire or two. About twenty minutes into the ride, the small girl fell asleep and kind of fell in between the seat. We thought the mother was seated next to us, so we didn’t move her. Turns out, the woman was not her mother, but the mother was in the front passenger seat! Ali and I were a little shocked and wish we had lifted the child up. On our way back from Ngara, in a four-door sedan, there were a total of seven people plus the driver. The drive from Ngara to Rulenge is about 45 minutes on dirt road up and down hills and through villages. It is a small miracle that cars are able to make it back and forth loaded to the brim without four-wheel drive.
Another interesting observation about public transportation is that no one talks. It is dead silent. Even riding the dalla dallas in Dar it was silent. Tanzanians are usually social, so it is odd that in a situation where you are rubbing shoulders with other people, there are no words exchanged. I have a hard time with this. Travelling with other volunteers, I want to talk. Plus I want to interact with the locals. I start with “habari” and usually I get nothing. I guess public transportation is a time for silence and reflection.
3. cows have large humps on their backs and other strange animal observations
Now I am not sure if this just a Tanzanian thing or an African cow thing in general. Cows have these very large bumps on their upper backs. Also, they are much thinner than American cows. They look a little emaciated. Although, this could be because American cows are chock full of hormones and feed way too much.
Dogs and cats also look different here. They look feral, serious, and have way bigger things on their mind than getting doggie treats and catnip. On the drive from Dar to Rulenge, we saw these massive vultures that were as tall as people. Now those were pretty nasty looking. I’ve seen some monkeys, baboons, and camels too.
4. a passport to visit Rwanda is unnecessary
Last Sunday, Ali and I went to Rusumu Falls on the border with Rwanda with our host, Mr. Deo. The falls are shared by Rwanda and Tanzania. We did not know we were actually going into Rwanda to see the falls, so we didn’t think to bring our passports with us. Apparently though a passport is unnecessary to cross the border. All we needed to do was just show our faces to the immigration officials, our escorts said some words in Swahili and it was fine. I took a great picture with a foot in each country (hopefully I can upload it soon).
The real attraction at Rusumu Falls though is not the falls. It is more like one fall under a bridge. Once you cross into Rwanda, there is a restaurant with a beautiful view of the Kagera River that divides the two countries. At the restaurant they have this amazing goat meat. I am usually very hesitant to try strange types of meat, but it was really good and probably the first real protein I’ve eaten besides eggs.
The particular section of the Kagera River we visited has a sad recent history because of the genocide in Rwanda in 1994. During those horrible days in April 1994, 917 people were killed at the highest hill overlooking the river and pushed in. There is a burial nearby the falls for the deceased. It is strange to think that through university I studied the genocide in 1994 and there I was at a place where atrocious killings happened. It was humbling.
5. my pikipiki ride to and from school everyday is incredibly beautiful
I have spent almost two full weeks teaching at Muyenzi. Besides the love I have of being in the classroom and with students, my pikipiki ride to school is my favorite time of day. Masantura, my super awesome driver, picks me up about five to ten minutes later than the agreed upon time, but I build that into my schedule. I throw one leg over the back of the bike and I am off. He drives a dirt bike and I think the brand is TVS.
Last week was a full moon and going up this one hill, I would have the moon on one side and the orange sun with purple haze on the other. Honestly, without sounding too cheesy, I feel like I am at the center of the earth and I guess I sort of am. The best comparison to Rulenge I can think of is Tuscany. Of course Rulenge does not have vineyards, but there are banana fields. The coloring and the vistas of Rulenge remind of that part of Italy for some reason. I should disclaim that Italy is arguably my favorite country besides the US and now Tanzania, so perhaps I look at it a bit through rose colored glasses, but it is truly breathtaking.
Recipe: Bean Burgers by Matt Mills
As I’m learning new skills in Tanzania, like cooking, I thought it would be fun to share a recipe now and then for some of the food I’ve successfully pulled off. This also might be something good for future Tanzanian volunteers to use, too.
One of my favorite meals so far that I’ve made are Bean Burgers. They’re pretty simple, and really delicious. As a good hamburger is one of my favorite foods back home, it’s a great recipe that is not only delicious, but also a good cure for culinary homesickness from time to time. Also, since it’s difficult to get beef (especially ground beef), it’s a pretty tasty substitute if you add enough flavor to the recipe.
I’ve pulled this recipe from the Peace Corps cookbook I’ve been using frequently, but decided to put some of my own touches on it, after a few times experimenting with the recipe (It serves about 4 people).
What you will need are the following ingredients:
1 Cup of cooked beans
½ Cup of cooked rice
¼ Cup of flour
1 egg
¼ teaspoon of salt
Pepper to taste
Onion
Garlic
Other spices or diced veggies, as desired
After you cook the beans and the rice (make sure they cool off after cooking, so as not to burn your hands), add all of the ingredients in a bowl and mush them together with your hands to form a sticky pile of burger batter. Let it sit for 30 min to one hour. Then form into patties. Don’t make the patties too big, since it will be difficult to fry them up if they’re too large. You should be able to make about 4 decent sized burgers. Heat up some oil and once it’s pretty hot, fry up the burgers until they’re nice and browned on either side (I like them a little on the crispy side). Serve on a bun with any of your favorite burger fixings (ketchup, cheese, veggies, etc) and enjoy!
