New Beginnings at Kilakala

Dear Readers!

I’m writing this blog from my new house at the Kilakala Girls’ Secondary School in Morogoro!! I moved on Friday. Our friends Becky (my new housemate) and Matt came all the way to Dakawa on Friday in a taxi to pick me up and help me move all my stuff to Kilakala in Morogoro. They ended up getting wicked lost on their way and drove by a ton of Maasai villages that were heavily populated by mud huts and they also drove through a random prison accidentally - I didn't even know that was near us at Dakawa...yikes. It was quite a journey for them so by the time they reached our house they were so tired and glad to be out of the taxi! Abby, Alice and I cleaned the house and prepared lunch for them.

When we got to the house at Kilakala on Friday I unpacked and then Becky (my new housemate) and I made Annies for dinner and then watched “Grown Ups” which just came out. You can get new movies that have just come out in theatres here for about $3. They’re all imported from Japan and China. While we were watching the movie about 10 of Becky’s students surprised us at the house because they wanted to meet me. They all read a bunch of Becky’s gossip magazines and danced to music that Becky and I played for them. It was so nice to get such a warm and inviting welcoming to the community here through her students. They were all really sweet and I know it will be nice to see them while I’m living here with Becky. We finished the movie after they left and I fell asleep even before midnight…I was super tired! I slept like a baby because I felt totally relaxed and comfortable in my new environment. It was an unbelievable feeling.

On Saturday I woke up and Becky and I met Alice in town to go to a used clothes market. It was really nice to explore around and see what was there. All the clothes were between 200 and 500 shillings, which is super cheap since 1500 shillings is $1. Most of the clothes were kinda ratty looking but there were some nice things. There are a lot of super random American t-shirts that you’d never really expect to see in Africa…like Alice got an old Sesame Street t-shirt. We’ve seen a lot of shirts for a bunch of the colleges and universities we all went to before we came here, haha. It’s sort of fun to look through everything and see what’s ended up here.

I might go back to the used clothes market to see what’s there again, but on second thought though, I might not because it was really scary there at times. Becky almost got her phone stolen from her right after we got into the market. A guy came out of nowhere and reached around Becky to distract her while another guy tried to steal her phone out of her pocket. Becky started screaming “Fuck You!” and I said “Sitaki!” which means “I don’t want that” or basically “Get away!” I hit one of the guys over the head with my water bottle and pushed him away from Becky. Luckily her phone didn’t get stolen, but Becky was still really shaken up and annoyed. Actually, we were all livid. The used clothes market was jam-packed with people but they didn’t do anything about it. It seemed to be normal to them that people get mugged and robbed. The fact that no one was really willing to help us or do anything to the thieves was really uncomfortable and unsettling. Their apathetic behavior seemed to completely contrast with the huge sense of communal wellbeing and protection that I’ve felt among most Tanzanians since I’ve been here. What’s more, the attempted robbery was definitely planned, which makes it extra eerie because we know that people here are actually scheming to steal from us... I have to say it was ironic when Becky almost got mugged because it happened a moment after we’d gone into a little outdoor shop in the market. When we went inside the shop vendor saw our purses loosely strung over our shoulders so they were draping behind our backs and immediately told us to make sure we kept our purses in the front of our bodies and tightly around our shoulders so no one would take them. Even though we left the shop following his guidance, Becky still got attacked. Oy vey.

It’s hard to live here knowing that you’re so vulnerable to robberies and muggings every day, especially because of how we look. Everyone can tell we’re not from here because we’re White. Tanzanians’ assumptions about our unfamiliarity with the environment and their thinking that most Whites here are very affluent makes us prime candidates in their society to steal from. I really hate thinking that just because I’m White people see a huge dollar sign masking my face and think that I’m so new to and hence unfamiliar with the environment that they’ll have an easy time stealing from me. Thinking about that puts a really rotten feeling in my stomach, so I rather not think about it. After all, I’m actually living here and not just visiting. In order to protect myself, I just have to remind myself that since I do stand out here and I seem like an easy target for crime I should always be aware of my surroundings and abide by general city smarts to stay safe. Hopefully by doing such I won’t run into such trouble during the rest of my time here. I can only hope the same goes true for the other volunteers as well.

Becky and I mentioned what had happened at the used clothes market to one of her students who came to visit us on Sunday and she said that it’s really common for even Tanzanians to be the targets of such petty crime. She told us a story of when she was holding her friend’s purse at a craft market in Mwenge, Dar es Salaam. She was waiting on a daladala for her friend to finish shopping and these girls started talking to her on the bus distracting her. She had been clutching her friend’s and her purses so tightly around her shoulder that she never noticed that while the girls had been talking to her they had cut the straps of the girls’ purses and took them, leaving her to think that her purses were still fine. When her friend returned to the bus she was horrified that her purse had been taking. Meanwhile, Becky’s student had no idea until her friend acknowledged that the purses were gone. It was devastating. On another occasion she told us that she had gone to Karume, Dar es Salaam, to a well-known shopping center to buy new school shoes. Before she had left her mother had warned her that new thieves were selling really nice shoes for super cheap prices as a way of stealing from people. They were selling nice shoes that should usually be 10,000-15,000 shillings for only 2,000 shillings. Becky’s student brushed off what her mom said and went to the market confident that nothing would happen to her. After she’d spent all day shopping and had bought a pair of shoes she saw a man with some really nice shoes that were just right for school. He said he’d sell her one pair for only 2,000 shillings so she paid the man and took a pair of shoes. Immediately after the man started screaming “Give me back my shoes, you thief!” and making a huge scene. He claimed that she’d only given him 2,000 shillings when the shoes were really 12,000. He was lying of course. Feeling helpless, Becky’s student told the man to calm down and she’d give back the shoes if he gave her back her money. She was so uncomfortable that she rushed the exchange and started walking off. A bunch of people around started yelling at her to look at the money the man had given her back. She just ignored them until about a minute later. When she looked at her hands she saw the man had only given her a piece of paper instead of her 2,000 shillings back, hence he’s stolen her money. Her stories are not atypical of most Tanzanians’ experiences here. Even though we’re all White volunteers and are more easily spotted as easy targets for stealing from, regular native Tanzanians still experience similar crime. It’s a real shame, but in a developing country such as Tanzania where many people barely have enough money and resources to support themselves day-to-day, petty crime becomes somewhat of a normal element in the society. I’m counting my blessings because I’ve managed to avoid all such interactions, but I’m sure a day will come where I won’t be so lucky. Until then, I have to try to do as I said and be as smart as I can in making sure I’m safe here. That’s really all I or anyone else can do. You just have to accept it, suck it up and get on with living your life.

After the mugging fiasco on Saturday, Alice, Becky, and I mulled around the center of Morogoro town for a bit and then retired to our house at Kilakala to rest before dinner. We met up with our friend and fellow volunteer, Matt, and went out to dinner at Dragonaires Saturday evening. I had chicken masala curry with chapatti (which is like Indian roti) and the rest of the volunteers had pizza. Dragonaires is known for its amazing pizza but it’s also generally a Chinese and Indian restaurant. Usually it only makes pizza on Friday and Sunday nights, but on Saturday night the stone-hearth oven was lit so pizza was fair game on the menu. We ate and talked until about midnight and then took a cab home. Alice and Matt were staying at a small hotel nearby Kilakala called Amabilis, which is run by nuns, so we dropped them off there first. The funny thing about Amabilis is that they lock the doors to the hotel at 10:00pm no matter what, so by the time we got there at midnight to drop Alice and Matt off they couldn’t get inside to their rooms. We had to get the guard at the front gate to call one of the nuns with Alice’s cell phone to let them in. It’s quite a whacky system. It seems a little weird that the guard to the hotel wouldn’t have his own key to any of the doors to unlock the place, but T.I.T. (This is Tanzania) so not everything here makes sense to us. Becky and I arrived home safely shortly thereafter and fell asleep immediately.
On Sunday Becky and I waited all day for her students to come by so that we could all play volleyball together. There are only two more weeks of school left for the girls here and their midterm exams are approaching, so Becky and I wanted to do something fun and relaxing with the girls before they had to start studying for exams. We only left the house once for about 15 minutes to visit the little vegetable market down the road from us to get an avocado, lettuce, some tomatoes, small chili peppers, and bananas for dinner. When we returned we still hadn’t seen the girls anywhere so we both took short afternoon naps. The stress of moving here, although it’s been somewhat of a relief in many ways, has generally made me exhausted the last couple days. When I woke up around six in the evening Becky’s student came by to tell us that she and the other students had come by earlier in the day but we weren’t around. Becky and I were so sorry and realized they must’ve come while we were at the market for that brief amount of time. Hopefully we’ll be able to play volleyball with them at another time in the near future.

On Sunday night Becky and I made homemade tomato soup, which we poured over avocados, and garlic bread. The meal was so good, especially considering that all the ingredients were fresh from the market that day. That’s what’s so nice about living here – we can always get fresh fruits and vegetables no more than half a mile down the road from where we live. There’s always a plentiful amount of produce at the market so we never have to worry about getting food for the day. Although the prices aren’t nearly as cheap as they were in Dakawa (e.g. 5 tomatoes here is 500 shillings whereas I could usually get 20 or more tomatoes in Dakawa for the same price), they’re still relatively cheap compared to prices in America for the same types of foods. It’s nice to be so close to fresh food for once in my life. Actually, the route I’ll have to walk everyday to get to the new school I’ll be working at next month passes right by the food market so everyday when I come home from work I’ll be able to get food for Becky and I. Talk about convenient!

Overall I’m warming up to Kilakala in general. The campus is really pristine and nice looking. The school really prides itself on its aesthetics. Kilakala is known for being the best girls’ secondary school in the Morogoro region and even most people from Dar es Salaam have heard about Kilakala. Kilakala’s students usually rank quite high on the national examinations for public government schools. In some ways it seems like we should be placed at other less-successful government schools where our native English speaking skills would really help the communities more, but Kilakala will be fine this year. I think the Tanzanian government placed us at schools that are high in the ranks like Kilakala, Dakawa, and Mzumbe because one, they’re close to Dar es Salaam and for the practicalities of our Field Director visiting us (who lives in Dar) it made the most sense placing us here. Secondly, I think the TZ Ministry of Education wanted to make a good impression on us by placing at the schools whose English is the strongest, creating the illusion that Tanzanians are really ok with English and we’re not as needed here as we might’ve originally thought. Whatever the reason, we’re placed here at these schools this first year of the program and we’re going to finish the year and then reassess if there might be other schools which might be able to use our help more than these ones in the future.

You know it’s funny because when I first signed up for WorldTeach I was originally told I would teach at Kilakala, not Dakawa, so it’s ironic that I’ve ended up here anyway after all the changes that’ve gone on. Even though I’m mostly liking Kilakala so far, there are some things I definitely miss about Dakawa. For example, when I was living at Dakawa our water only ran out a couple of times and even then it was only out for a few hours and then it came back on. Adversely. Kilakala currently doesn’t have any running water on campus other than in the kitchen where even so there is only one spout that provides running water. Kilakala’s water supply started to run dry a couple of weeks ago and during that time, when Tracy was still living her with Becky, they’d have to go behind the house every night around midnight to collect the running water from the faucet that only worked around that time of night. Since Tracy left and I moved in, however, one of Becky’s students told us that Kilakala has completely run out of water except for that one spout in the kitchen. Thank god there’s still water to cook with here, but really it’s become a bit of a pain for us Americans who are usually spoiled to use as much water as we please back home in the States. Fortunately, since Becky is part of the staff here, we get the privilege of filling up our water jugs and buckets in the kitchen. Even then it’s completely on the other side of campus from where we live so usually on our way back to the house when we’re struggling to carry our water a lot of students will run up to us and help us carry our water. It’s a really nice gesture of respect, since they understand that we’re certainly not used to this. As for most of the students here, they have to walk about 20 minutes (at least!) to go fetch water from a neighboring school in the region whose supply hasn’t run out. Usually the girls can only carry one full bucket at a time which they balance and carry on their heads the whole way back. Becky and I would try that but being Wazungu (White people) I think we’d get so laughed at we wouldn’t be able to stand it, haha. Plus I don’t know how we could do that without breaking our necks! It’s a wonder girls half our size that we’re teaching can handle that much weight atop their heads for such a distance! Since it’s been such a hassle for us to get water, Becky and I have learned to conserve, conserve, conserve! We try to use less than a bucket of water a day per person. It’s funny to think that we’re actually able to do it considering that most Americans go through more than an average of 20 gallons of water a day just for one shower! It’s a totally reality check being here.

It’s a real shame with the water situation because apparently there’s another secondary school with a big water supply that’s much closer to Kilakala than the school the Kilakala students have been going to to get water, but apparently that school will not allow Kilakala girls to get water from it because Kilakala has Americans working for it and the school is Muslim. Talk about crazy politics, ayayay. It’s not just Becky and I who are lumped into the American pool because a couple years ago two Peace Corps volunteers from American were working here also, but even so the fact that the girls have to walk twice as far just because we’re Americans really is a punch in the gut. It sucks that it has to be that way. Oh, this is a crazy world we live in.

Aside from the water disaster, one of the luxuries of living at Kilakala is that I don’t have to shell out 2,500 shillings to and from town and ride for a minimum of one hour each way in a crammed daladala that goes between Dakawa and town just to get to town anymore. I can’t even tell you how happy that makes me. Personally, I really don’t mind the daladalas usually and I find them kind of charming, but it’s nice not to have to travel an hour just to go to town to get airtime for my phone or groceries we’ve run out of at the house. I can just walk to town from Kilakala pretty much whenever I want which makes my life so much easier. I can also use the internet more often and stay in touch with people from home a lot easier. Clearly there are a lot of perks to living in town.

On the other hand though, I really don’t mind the daladalas and I’m especially going to miss the commute between Dakawa and town from now on. For example, the other weekend when I was on the daladala coming to town from Dakawa we picked up some Maasai from the villages that populate the area between Dakawa and town. One Maasai woman sat next to me in the back of the daladala for about half the ride. She was adorned with tons of beautiful yellow and white beaded necklaces and different metal chains that were folded through her gauged earlobes and metal bracelets that were wound around her ankles/shins and forearms. She was absolutely stunning and it was such a privilege to be able to sit next to her and interact with an authentic Maasai person from her original environment. Most of the time when foreigners come to Tanzania they only get to hear about the Maasai or see the ones who live in town. Usually the Maasai you see in Tanzania if you’re a foreigner who’s just sticking to the major areas of TZ like Morogoro and Dar, especially, are almost always males who work as security guards at clubs, hotels, and restaurants and guards for parked cars in any parking lot you can imagine, mostly at night. They’re almost always robed in two flannel-patterned kangas, one of which they wrap around their waists to cover their legs and the other which they wrap around their torsos to cover up their chests. Most of their kangas are red and blue colors that are patterned with different geometric lines that make really cool patterns. Almost all of the Maasai I’ve seen have gauged earlobes from which usually only the women hang different ornaments and earrings. Although they mostly speak their own Maasai language, some Maasai know Kiswahili, too. When I was on the daladala sitting next to the Maasai woman she started speaking to me in Swahili and I was able to tell her a little bit about myself…that I’m from American and I work in Morogoro as a high school English teacher, etc. You should’ve seen the smile gleaming from her face when I spoke Kiswahili with her. That’s why it’s so important to me to learn Kiswahili here. The more I learn, the more I can get the opportunity to learn about and exchange information with people who don’t know barely any English here. It’s an absolutely wonderful feeling. I’ll never forget that daladala ride. Even though I won’t be riding to Dakawa as often as I did before when I lived there, I will still gladly make the trip periodically to visit my old students, my former Headmistress (whom I still adore), and be able to reap the cultural benefits of the daladala rides.

This morning (Monday) I went for my first run in the Kilakala area. It was nice to start running again since last week. The scenery is absolutely stunning because there's a backdrop of the gorgeous Uluguru Mountains right behind the school so everywhere you're in Morogoro you can see them. When I finished my run I filled up two jugs of water for Becky and I. We were out of water when I got back to the house so I had to make the trip. Becky was busy teaching beginner English classes to some kids down the street at a new school that just opened up. When Becky got back from class we took a taxi into town for lunch and then did some shopping for the house and now I'm here at the Internet Cafe. While we were at lunch a street vendor came up to us with a lot of stuff and then started jabbering off in Swahili about something. I just told him "Hapana, asante" ("No Thank You") but he ended up taking our plates and eating our food! We were already done so it wasn't a big deal but it was kind of uncomfortable because we didn't know what was going on at first. We left shortly thereafter. We tried to buy some shelves for our house at some little shops next to the restaurant but they kept trying to rip us off so we just moved on. It's always an interesting experience being in town here. You really never know what's going to happen. You just have to go into town with a brave yet friendly face on and see what awaits you!