Mama Liz's Journal
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10.1.03 - 12.31.03
1.1.04 - 5.31.04
3.1.05 - 4.30.05
5.1.05 - 6.30.05
7.1.05 - 8.31.05
9.1.05 - 10.31.05
11.1.05 - 12.31.05
02.14.08 - 2.07.09
3.27.05
Date: Sun, 27 Mar 2005 00:24:59 -0800 (PST)
Subject: Some things never change
To: Everyone
Jambo, I'm here, it's great. We're at the Peacock Hotel, very nice,very modern. Hot showers, lots of
tv channels. Good food. General first impressions;Tanzania is more progressive than Ghana. I did not
say better, just more progressive.It's a lovely city, busy and colorful. The plane trip was long.
It's kind of like being in the womb. You nap, stretch and then someone feeds you. Then you nap and
stretch again.Then you're expelled into the world. It's humid here, but I like that. Just a tropical
girl at heart, I guess. I'm at the hotel computer, and it's funny because the @ symbol isn't really
the correct key here. The @ symbol, when pressed, gives you". But I remembered it was the same in
Ghana, so I tried it and there you go. So some things are constant, thank God.
I am so happy to be back, and have learned a few Swahili words already. About 10 % of the people
speak English, and I think I have met most of them already. so I learn. Its a beautiful language.
Hopefully, by the end of my stay, I'll speak passable Swahili.Will reply to personal messages later,
just wanted to let you know all is fine. Sheri, please tell Debra to email me with her new address.
Also tell David Paulus to do the same. Thanks.To my kids, I love you and miss you, and will contact
you later. Please take care of each other.
Love Mama Liz
((DSCO1809;Dar es Salaam fruit
stand. African pineapples are the best in the world))
04.13.05
Sent: Wednesday, April 13, 2005 2:27 AM
Subject: I'm living with a 22 year old African man
To: Everyone
I've read that the first line is important, so how does that grab you? He's young and handsome,
and he calls me Mother.((DSCO0844; Elia in the kitchen.Looks like a before shot on one of those
makeover shows.)) So don't get your panties all in a twist. His father owns the house I live in.
Think I've mentioned that, but he's helping me with my Kiswahili, and making sure I don't pay the
skin tax when I shop. So I'm pretty well organized by now; all is smooth, by African standards.
Here's my day. I wake with the rooster, who apparently spends the night directly beneath my window. But more about him later.First I put a pot of water on to boil, then brush my teeth. There's a place to spit outside; no sink inside. When the water is hot I do my dishes; outside again, or on the steps. Bibi(grandmother)who lives in the cookhouse across the yard comes out and coughs and says hi. I sent her to the Doctor today, she's got pneumonia. After dishes I put hot water(added after the dish water has been removed from the pot)in my bath bucket and take my bath. Also outside, attached to Bibis. There's a nice flat rock in the enclosure and I've got some cardboard on it; so I can bathe sitting down. Life is grand. Then with the new water(I keep that pot going for about an hour every morning) I have my coffee and breakfast.
They've got a great bread here, a kind of sourdough wholewheat,a dense round loaf.I like it with avocado and tomato. So then I sit outside with Elia on the steps and watch the cows go by. And I mean that literally.((DSCO0954; These guys walk by me daily. Little did I know that one day one of these seemingly placcid bovines would attempt to do me in.Insert organ music.)) Then I watch the rooster try to make eggs with one of the local hens. That's a hoot. He chases her ALL over the yard while I yell at him FOREPLAY, YOU FOOL..He struts away like he never wanted her in the first place.((DSCO0901; Our chicken, and one of the local kids. Taken from inside my house facing Bibi's hut.))
After that I'm off to greet the doctor and his wife. Janet, we're doing our own clinical trials using honey for wound care. So far the results are wonderful. This will save on antibiotics, and we've loads of honey here.
I started teaching English this week and I really love it. I teach form 6, 12-15 yrs old or so, and they're great. My class is the noisiest one in school, but nobody seems to mind and we're having fun. Their English is about as bad as my Kiswahili. During class I usually find about 3 kids who are sick so I take them to the Dr after school. I have a deal with the doc, I send someone with a note and he sees them and I pay the fee later. It's 100 shillings, about 10 cents. This way I avoid giving money directly to the villagers. Tried that once and the old guy drank it up. So I learn.
I'm doing a shoe giveaway right now. These kids wear shoes you wouldn't believe, You'd probably
not even call them shoes. So now I've got all kinds of kids at my door wanting shoes. The sad
thing is many of the parents drink at the pubs nightly. Five beers and you've got a pair of shoes.
But they won't stop drinking and I'll not punish a kid for this. So I'm the shoe lady. I also hand
out panties, which I discovered the other day are in short supply. As I was fitting my neighbor
girl for shoes it became all to obvious I needed to expand my focus. Gotta go, my time is up.
But that's most of my day, POBox 6482. Mbeya, Tanzania, East Africa. Would love to get some
flash cards, kids books, and licorice.Small packages are best.
I love you all.
Mama Liz
04.23.05
Date: April 23, 2005
Subject:To shikamoo or not to shikamoo
To Everyone
So much to tell you all, to quote Calvin and Hobbs..The days are just packed.I am well and healthy,
thank God. Have been warmly welcomed by one and all, including the chief. He came to my house to officially
greet me, and to thank me for all the medical supplies you all helped me to collect.
I really don't know where to start. I guess I'll begin with the kids; sweet and shy. They come to you and say shikamoo, a greeting given to an elder. Then they reach up their grimy little hands and place them on your head. It's too cute,and in response I say marahaba. Shikamoo is a greeting anyone gives to an elder or anyone in a high position. The problem is I'm not always sure who is elder. I shikamoo anyone with grey hair, but the rest is iffy.
Fortunately I have Elia, a young man from the village who stays with me. So if I'm in doubt I just look at him and say Shikamoo?, and he'll nod or otherwise. An intricate system, but very nice. I am living in the house of the mzee, or village elder, and Elia is his son. His late son Godfrey was the man who first had the idea for the center, and now that he's dead it's been named for him.
A few of the neighbor kids have taken up residence with me when I am home. They hang out and just watch. I pulled out a balloon the first day and they went wild. No toys in evidence, so they were very happy. They like my cookies too, and accept anything I give with both hands together, palms up, to show respect for the gift and the giver.This doesn't apply to Banana Boy.((DSCO0861; Banana Boy, one of my neighbors.)) He's about 12-18 mos old, shoeless, wordless and naked except for an extremely dirty shirt. He comes over daily, stands there and just stands there, coughs a lot, and eats the bananas I give him. Serious kid, never cracks a smile.
Have met Dr Kwita, a lovely man with some English. He's a district medical officer and has 6 villages to oversee, about 6000 people. The govt does give monthly supplies, and I was able to see them this am; they come on the first of the month. Two small boxes, pitifully inadequate. He says the supplies may last 10 days.((DSCO0865; Dr Kwita, whom I adore. These are his supplies for one month to care for 6 villages. I've been able to supplement his stock monthly. He needs a microscope. Anyone have one?)) My first dayin Idweli I went to visit him and a woman came in with a baby who had malaria. The child had convulsed earlier in the day. She had no Tylenol. Dr Kwita had no tylenol. So I ran home and got mine. I will buy him some today.
I've been looking around for a focus for my money and any money you'd like to send. The kid's clothes are rags, lots have no shoes, or shoes that are long past the time when we in America would throw them out. They are lacking books, and there's 50-75 kids in a classroom.
But truly I think I need to concentrate on meds. I can get them cheap here in Mbeya. There's no real pharmacy in Idweli, where I am.o for all of you who remember Ghana, and were wondering how long it would take, here's my firstshameless plea for funds.I have my own money, but I'd like to try to keep the dispensary stocked as much as I can. Anyone interested can deposit money into my account at Bank of America. I'll send my account number by email to anyone interested. Asante sana.
The Childrens Center is wonderful. I will live there when it opens, which is in a few weeks. But then this is Africa time, a thousand times slower than Hawaiian time.
For now, my toilet is outside, in a brick hut about as big as a dog house for a St Bernard. I can't stand up. It's a hole in the ground, and it's actually ok. I can look out at the pastures while I pee, and my aim is improving. ((DSCO0842; my choo. A little smaller than I'm used to but easy to clean, should I decide to.))
I'm loving it here; people are determined to teach me Kiswahili, and as I walk from here to there during my day I'll have many informal sessions with whoever passes by.Some of it is starting to make sense.
Have much more to tell you; will try to make it to Mbeya weekly to email and restock. My goal today,
besides meds, is to find a can opener. So far I've been unsuccessful.Used a knife yesterday to open my
sardines. It took about 20 minutes and the sardines were fairly mangled by the time I poured them out.
Still tasted pretty good over my rice. So everyone take care. Someone go to 3No please and give David
Paulus my email. Debra can you do that? Or Sheri?Tutaonana badaaye.
Love Mama Liz
04.23.05
Date: Sat, 23 Apr 2005 05:57:21 -0700 (PDT)
Subject: Please hold my chicken
To: Everyone
Aloha, It's a pretty good day at the internet, almost fast, and that's good enough for me.
I'm fine, asante Mungu. But I've decided I want my own daladala. I love those things. This has got
to be the single most unregulated industry in the world. Hence my devotion.
I have sat in the back, the front and the middle; all have their advantages. The back is fun because you can watch everyone undetected. We were stopped in Uyole the other day during the after work rush hour and when we stopped we were surrounded by all these merchants thrusting bags of onions and tomatoes, cookies and kitchen utensils at us through the windows. Its like some kind of third world WalMart.
The only thing they didn't push through the window was a chicken. But we already had a few of those. Today a woman got out with her baby. She was having trouble maneuvering so she pulled this live chicken out from under her seat(carry on luggage, Africa style) and had her seatmate hold this screeching chicken by the wings till she got out. I love this place.
If you sit in the middle you hold people's stuff, produce, children, chickens... But the front is good too. You can see what's coming. Actually this is not always a good thing. Last week I was going home and it was getting dark and raining hard. I was in front and wondering if the wipers worked; because they weren't in use.. A little concerned. But I guess it has to rain pretty hard to use them; and eventually it was enough of a deluge to turn them on. I turned to the driver to express my gratitude and he's got both hands off the wheel as he yanks the drivers window up. This takes a long time; at least it seemed like it.
So I have completely fallen in love with the kids. They're so great. I wear my walkman when I walk to school, and I never really get to listen cause the kids want to, and that's fine. You should see the looks on their faces when they hear the music. These kids have never heard anything like it and they get these huge smiles and wiggle their skinny little butts and laugh. They're so open to anything, and want so badly to learn English. I teach the 6th form, and I have one or two classes a day. But we always end late; the kids don't want to leave.
One day we had class for 2 1/2 hours. I was parched when I was done. Gotta tell you about this one kid. I was going to school and happened upon the preschoolers on the road. I was wearing a skirt, sweater and black stockings. There is a dress code for teachers, no jeans. So I'm surrounded, and giving everyone a turn at the walkman and I'm feeling something slithering up my leg. I look down and there's this kid running his hands up and down my calf, trying to figure out how this mzungu has white arms and black legs. So just to play with his head I reached down and pulled the stocking out about 6 inches from my leg. The look on his face was priceless. I'm so much more interesting here. Some people find me just fascinating.They watch me wash my clothes, do my dishes, any old thing.
I have had to let go of my need for clean water; really clean water. We get water from the faucett or river here, and collect rain water from the roofs. So even if it's boiled there's always little pieces of roof on the bottom of your coffee. At least I hope it's roof.((DSCO0861; our water source. It's quite a hike to the source. There are filters on the way down so it looks fine when it comes to us. Need to boil though.) Re cleanliness, we will always be plagued by infectious disease here, AND LET ME TELL YOU WHY. We shake hands about 9-10 times during a conversation. It's custom and the polite thing to do. This is not too bad in itself except in Tanzania a hankerchief is used to wipe sweat off your face.I am the ONLY person here who blows her nose with a tissue of some sort. Most just pick or put one finger to the side of their nose and blow. A skill I have yet to add to my list. So as I go to greet someone(and its rude not to greet) I see a friendly local removing his/her finger from his/her nostril to offer a hand in friendship and love. Yikes.. And the thing is, they don't seem to be finding anything up there, they're just rooting around.If nose picking was an Olympic event we'd be bringing in the gold, let me tell you.
Oh well.So the shoe, shirt and panty giveaway continues. I get shirts on market day for 850 shillings,
about 85 cents. I take them to school and give them to the kids with the worst shirts. I've developed a
criteria, big rips down the front or back gets you a shirt. No buttons at all gets you a shirt. And
if you have your shirt tied through the buttonhole with a piece of grass you definitely get a shirt.
Some of the kids are showing up asking for shoes after first leaving their old footwear around the
corner of my house. But their feet are clean while the rest of their leg is dirty. I guess they
figure I just rolled off the wazungu truck. I have loads more to say but Im running out of time.
Thank you, everyone who is sending money. Marcia, I can buy 60 shirts with your 50 bucks, thank
you. To my kids, I love you. Max Im so happy you and Elizabeth are doing well.. Please don't marry
till I'm home. I missed Asa and Sarah's wedding. I'd like to go to one. Louie, write to me, how is
work? Barry, Kara said the computer class starts soon, will get money from Martha. Post office closing.
Gotta go now. I love you all.
Mama liz
04.10.05
Date: Sun, 10 Apr 2005 07:01:00 -0700 (PDT)
Subject: There's always room for one more
To: Everyone
Jambo. Habari gani? Sorry it's taken so long to get back to all of you, I'm kind of far
away. You know how some people will say they're from nowhere? Some say they're miles from
nowhere? I'm about 50 miles from them. But all is well, and I am healthy, asante Mungu.
Have spent most of the week in meetings with the governing board of the Center; hammering out the details for the opening.((DSCO0898; governing board meeting. In the foreground is my friend Victor from Lundy Foundation.)). And this is all done with translators, so it takes a while. Happy to say all is completed to everyone's satisfaction. This includes the chief, who is an old wiry little guy, very cool. He wields a big stick though.((DSCO0860; Mzee Msemwa, Barry, Chief, and wonderful Martha MmBando in my hoouse shortly after I arrived at Idweli. I lived in this house for 2 months) Someone interrupted him the other day and he said something in Kiswahili, very softly, and the offender stepped back and shut right up. We should be opening in June.
For all of you who have volunteered to put money in my account, asante. I will be getting a POBox next week, and then you can send small stuff. Particularly interested in flash cards and kids books. Im teaching some English, and start tomorrow with 2 classes each day in the local primary school.((DSCO0871;Idweli Primary School, morning assembly)) ((DSCO0920, inside one of the big kids class. I had 50-50=60 kids in my class; up to 100 when the little kids ran in to watch the Hokey Pokey)) Wish me luck.O yeah, for those of you who want to go to the bank, my real name, to my eternal shame, is Annette L Clibourne.
Have spent the weekend in Mbeya with my friend Tupo, and her daughter Lilly. Had a great time. She and Lilly live in a room thats about 10x15. It's got a bed and sofas. She cooks on a one burner on the floor in the corner. It's crowded, that's the way it is here. You have to have some serious money to have a good house.
The house is built around a courtyard where we do the laundry, cook, and socialize. There's four families in the compound. Third world living is intimate, you have to get along. So we had fun, except for the little 2 year old who is deathly afraid if mzungu, that's me. She runs and cries when she sees me, and everybody laughs like crazy. She's starting to come around, though, I have a box of cookies and that should do it.(DSCOO906 Life at Tupo's)
So I went to Tukuyu this week, and this brings me to todays topic, travel in Tanzania. For those of you who were with me in Ghana, remember the trotro? The van that was refitted to hold about 15-20 sweaty people? Well in Ghana when the car was full they drove past, sometimes looking at you regretfully, most times not. Here in Tanzania there's no such thing as too full. Remember back in the 60's when they'd try to see how many idiots could fit in a Volkswagen? Same deal.
I got on the daladala to go with my friend DR. Kwita to visit a local hospital. We got seats, so I was one of 20 people with my butt on a cushion. Then about 8 more people got on, but as there were no seats they just wedged themselves in somehow. A man crouched down in front of me with his knee between my thighs. I think we are now betrothed. All that's left is bargaining for my bride price.I'm holding out for 5 cows. But as I am beyond childbearing age I may have to settle for less.
So anyway, I tried to count the passengers, and there were 18 of us in the first 3 rows. Remember, this is a Toyota van. I tried to crane my neck back to see how many unfortunate souls were behind me but all I could see was someone's armpit. My good fortune that this was in the am, after everyone's morning bath. Had this been at 4pm I may have expired right there in my seat.
No problem though, they'd just roll me out and there's room for another. I guess you'd have to liken it to the African version of twister, played in a car.It does get close, remember, third world life is intimate. But on the bright side, sometimes when it's too full they drive with the door open, and you get a breeze. You can do that if you're wedged in tight enough.
My friend is waiting for me, so I need to stop this soon. There is so much more to say,
but life is good. Got a little travelers constipation, from all the rice and bananas and
ugali, and hoping to fix it with fruits and veggies. Would rather do that than wait for
my first bout of diarrhea.I love you all.Keep in touch,emails are like gold to me.
Love Mama Liz
