Dearest everyone, it's my one-week anniversary in Arusha, I just realized! Well, today I celebrated (I guess) by taking the daladala (public bus) by myself for the first time. I'd like to make this mode of transport a comfortable option, if possible, because it's extremely cheap, faster than walking, avoids unnecessary use of fuel, etc. So I successfully got onto the correct bus (the Kisongo line) and, with the help of a very kind old woman next to me to who conversed with me mainly via hand gesture, got off at the right stop! Getting around is not easy or relaxing, but if you keep your head about you, it's perfectly safe, and anyway I have to get used to it sometime ...
Doing work for my job (helping manage the Suzuki program, corresponding with parents, doing US non-profit funding research on the internet) can be really comforting when things start to feel chaotic here. It's good for me to remember that I did come here to do a job, and that I can be helpful and productive even as I'm getting settled into third-world living. Of course, for me it's mostly first-world conditions: hot showers, internet, clean clothes, good Indian restaurants, rations of dark chocolate, etc. But occasionally the energy required to deter theft, or the unannounced power cuts (on Sunday night we had no electricity for thirteen hours or more), remind me of where I am.
In general, I'm feeling fine. I got to talk to my entire family yesterday on the phone, which was truly great. I got choked up of course. I'm talking with Tyler as often as we can manage, though I miss him terribly and the time difference and other communication barriers are taking some getting used to. He's being extremely patient, and I'm grateful. I'm already dreaming of when he visits in February. Not exactly living in the moment, I know, but still .... =)
Thanks SO much for the friendly comments, it makes me smile to read them! Please keep 'em coming.
Monday, August 20, 2007
Friday, August 17, 2007
It turns out ...
... my walking 'friend' Richard is indeed a flycatcher, just one of a different type. Erica gave me a little education on them over dinner. I'll leave this previous post as it is, however, just as a tribute to my mzungu naivete about whom to trust. (Don't worry, though, they're all pretty harmless.)
This place is crazy.
I just returned, feeling moderately victorious, from my first big walk around Arusha by myself. Liza's out of town this weekend working on our organization's legal NGO status, so I'm left a little bit to my own devices ... which is certainly daunting, but probably a good thing for the long term! I decided to venture out after taking some time around the house to relax and put down a big, round straw mat in my room for a kind of rug. (The floors are concrete, which helps keep the house nice and cool, but it also makes the room feel kind of like a cell.) It looks nicer now. I also have a newer, fancier mosquito net to hang up (we sleep under them every night), if I can get my spacial reasoning skills to function later.
Of course I was a little bit nervous to go out by myself, because I've heard a lot about African men staring at white women, asking them to marry them, and being in generally a little sketchy. The staring is certainly true, and you can see why: on my forty-minute walk into town, I saw only two other white people. (Once you're actually in town, there are more white tourists and residents, but still a tiny minority.) There were certainly some suggestively raised eyebrows, a few whistles, and some hisses (my least favorite) from the men, but in general, everyone is kind. They smile, and look pleased (or maybe they're amused) to hear you use Kiswahili. Going out by myself was a fantastic way to see my neighborhood up close, and to practice my greetings!
On my walk, I conversed at length with three men. The first, Richard, was a young Tanzanian guy who stopped me and began speaking to me in very good English. He began to walk alongside me on my way into town, which made me a little nervous at first, but he ended up being a wonderful person to meet! He was extremely gregarious as he regaled me with stories about the other (probably young, female) foreigners he had welcomed into Arusha and shown around town. He explained the difference between himself, a nice guy, and the 'flycatcher' men who were prowling the roundabout in the middle of town, talking to foreigners, trying to get them to come into shady shops or be paid to show wazungu around town. (Later, when I was alone, these men were quite aggressive.) I let him show me a craft market in town, where I impressed him by using Swahili with the vendors. Then I told him I needed to stop in at one of the airline offices (which I did, sort of), just in case Richard ended up being less innocent than he seemed. But he truly was a nice guy: he never asked for money or was sketchy, and seemed genuinely friendly. This was a pleasant surprise.
The second man, Harry, was a tourist from Southern Scotland. He was sitting alone in the coffee shop that I ducked into to avoid the flycatchers described above. We struck up a conversation, which consisted mainly of Harry's glum, flustered complaints about Africa. He'd been traveling all over the continent, and seemed to come away from the place largely remembering the poor service, dirt, poverty, and discomfort. I listened sympathetically; he seemed like a nice guy who wasn't cut out for solo travel in Africa. Then, I discovered he'd done a similar trip before, and was returning to see friends he'd made it in several countries! Then, he began to complain in a similar way about Heathrow Airport in London! Some people just know how to complain. It was actually kind of funny, and I didn't mind sitting in the cool, safe coffeeshop to make him feel better.
The third, Mike, was an extremely tall Tanzanian guy on the way to work at his duka (little roadside store). He was very cute, friendly, and said I had good Swahili.
It's amazing what you run into when you travel by yourself.
Photos aren't working so well right now, but I'll keep trying.
Of course I was a little bit nervous to go out by myself, because I've heard a lot about African men staring at white women, asking them to marry them, and being in generally a little sketchy. The staring is certainly true, and you can see why: on my forty-minute walk into town, I saw only two other white people. (Once you're actually in town, there are more white tourists and residents, but still a tiny minority.) There were certainly some suggestively raised eyebrows, a few whistles, and some hisses (my least favorite) from the men, but in general, everyone is kind. They smile, and look pleased (or maybe they're amused) to hear you use Kiswahili. Going out by myself was a fantastic way to see my neighborhood up close, and to practice my greetings!
On my walk, I conversed at length with three men. The first, Richard, was a young Tanzanian guy who stopped me and began speaking to me in very good English. He began to walk alongside me on my way into town, which made me a little nervous at first, but he ended up being a wonderful person to meet! He was extremely gregarious as he regaled me with stories about the other (probably young, female) foreigners he had welcomed into Arusha and shown around town. He explained the difference between himself, a nice guy, and the 'flycatcher' men who were prowling the roundabout in the middle of town, talking to foreigners, trying to get them to come into shady shops or be paid to show wazungu around town. (Later, when I was alone, these men were quite aggressive.) I let him show me a craft market in town, where I impressed him by using Swahili with the vendors. Then I told him I needed to stop in at one of the airline offices (which I did, sort of), just in case Richard ended up being less innocent than he seemed. But he truly was a nice guy: he never asked for money or was sketchy, and seemed genuinely friendly. This was a pleasant surprise.
The second man, Harry, was a tourist from Southern Scotland. He was sitting alone in the coffee shop that I ducked into to avoid the flycatchers described above. We struck up a conversation, which consisted mainly of Harry's glum, flustered complaints about Africa. He'd been traveling all over the continent, and seemed to come away from the place largely remembering the poor service, dirt, poverty, and discomfort. I listened sympathetically; he seemed like a nice guy who wasn't cut out for solo travel in Africa. Then, I discovered he'd done a similar trip before, and was returning to see friends he'd made it in several countries! Then, he began to complain in a similar way about Heathrow Airport in London! Some people just know how to complain. It was actually kind of funny, and I didn't mind sitting in the cool, safe coffeeshop to make him feel better.
The third, Mike, was an extremely tall Tanzanian guy on the way to work at his duka (little roadside store). He was very cute, friendly, and said I had good Swahili.
It's amazing what you run into when you travel by yourself.
Photos aren't working so well right now, but I'll keep trying.
Wednesday, August 15, 2007
Village visit
All is well here in Arusha! I am enjoying everything so much: doing lots of organizational work for the Suzuki program with Liza (it feels wonderful to be my our own bosses for now), absorbing as much Swahili as I can, and keeping basic goals of personal health and sanity (use a mosquito net, apply bug spray after dark, stay hydrated, eat, get some quiet alone time). I have been incredibly fortunate to receive a truly amazing introduction to my new home in the first two days.
Today, Liza, David Sengenge (my fellow teacher, of guitar), Erica (my new housemate) and I visited a beautiful village in the Bangata district, just outside of Arusha. We were there to watch a choir rehearsal run by a few American women who are volunteering for Erica's organization, called Support for International Change, which sets up volunteers who want to work in AIDS/HIV-related projects here in the Arusha region. Erica is one of the higher-ups on the small staff, and I'm already learning so much from her about running an organization, speaking Swahili, being brave, and driving an ungodly huge 4x4 truck. (She and Liza have lots in common.) Erica wanted to hook the American volunteers up with Liza, David and me, because we're music teachers. We watched, made some suggestions, and Liza got started connecting them with local resources. The children have unbelievable ears! They are so accustomed to singing, clapping, and dancing in church and community. They can sing parts in thirds easily and heartily, without the shyness we all remember from middle school chorus.
The village was unbelievably gorgeous. It was lush, green, and QUIET compared with the relatively urban hustle and bustle of Arusha proper. The road up to the village was incredibly rough, and is apparently only passable in ONE kind of truck. (Erica's organization owns several; without these, their rural outreach work would not be possible.) Because these people are more removed, white people (wazungu) are pretty unusual. Enormous crowds of schoolchildren developed around the truck whenever we needed to stop.
Because many people don't really understand how cameras work, why you'd take their picture, and where the picture's going, locals don't like having their picture taken. In order to respect this, I kept my camera out of sight until we began to walk back down the road, and captured some nice images without annoying anyone. When the internet's better, I'll post them. =) Love and miss my friends and family.
Today, Liza, David Sengenge (my fellow teacher, of guitar), Erica (my new housemate) and I visited a beautiful village in the Bangata district, just outside of Arusha. We were there to watch a choir rehearsal run by a few American women who are volunteering for Erica's organization, called Support for International Change, which sets up volunteers who want to work in AIDS/HIV-related projects here in the Arusha region. Erica is one of the higher-ups on the small staff, and I'm already learning so much from her about running an organization, speaking Swahili, being brave, and driving an ungodly huge 4x4 truck. (She and Liza have lots in common.) Erica wanted to hook the American volunteers up with Liza, David and me, because we're music teachers. We watched, made some suggestions, and Liza got started connecting them with local resources. The children have unbelievable ears! They are so accustomed to singing, clapping, and dancing in church and community. They can sing parts in thirds easily and heartily, without the shyness we all remember from middle school chorus.
The village was unbelievably gorgeous. It was lush, green, and QUIET compared with the relatively urban hustle and bustle of Arusha proper. The road up to the village was incredibly rough, and is apparently only passable in ONE kind of truck. (Erica's organization owns several; without these, their rural outreach work would not be possible.) Because these people are more removed, white people (wazungu) are pretty unusual. Enormous crowds of schoolchildren developed around the truck whenever we needed to stop.
Because many people don't really understand how cameras work, why you'd take their picture, and where the picture's going, locals don't like having their picture taken. In order to respect this, I kept my camera out of sight until we began to walk back down the road, and captured some nice images without annoying anyone. When the internet's better, I'll post them. =) Love and miss my friends and family.
Monday, August 13, 2007
Safe in Arusha
Hello! I'm pulling away briefly from hanging out with Liza and my other new roommate, Erica, to get some quiet time to catch up with myself, and whoever might want to read something, or look at a picture. We arrived safely in Arusha around 3pm today and it has been a beautiful and overwhelming place so far. I had dinner tonight with several other American women doing various kinds of work in Tanzania, and it was quite amazing to be able to feel so at home, with young women who share much of my background and probably many of my values. A few of them are Liza's really good friends, and they're really good people, I can already tell. I'm a little too overwhelmed to be really social, but hopefully they understand. It's only day 2 on the African continent ...
We stayed in a fantastic hostel in Nairobi. It was clean, comfortable, had a computer with Internet, a 24-hour kitchen that could make hot sandwiches, and full of interesting people (mostly European and American), some of whom had been backpacking for months and months, all over the world. The hostel bedroom we stayed in was full of colorful bedspreads.
We got on the shuttle the next day from Nairobi to Arusha. It was a five-hour trip, and while it was logistically smooth, it was physically REALLY bumpy. Although this is the biggest main road between the two cities, it's full of potholes. For one long stretch in Kenya, our driver had to swerve all over the road to avoid huge potholes, or slow down to about 5 mph just to avoid breaking an axle. (Drivers here already make a habit of swerving into the opposing lane in order to pass, since there are no roads with more than two lanes. Many times, you end up unnervingly close to a directly oncoming car ... yikes!) The ride was full of sights: I saw a gazelle, a bunch of camels including a baby one, and two ostriches! I also saw many, many Maasai tribesmen (this is an enormous indigenous tribe in East Africa) walking their herds of cattle through the endless plains. They wear traditional robes in bright colors (sometimes plaids!), the men often have earlobes that have been stretched to great lengths by weights, and their shoes are made from recycled car tires. They also send tiny boys, who look as young as five years old, out to the fields with their own herds to supervise. This was quite incredible to see. Here is a picture of the plains they walked through. (I just wasn't comfortable sticking my camera out the window of a bus full of white folks ... it's a big effort to take out my camera and feel like a tourist.)
Arusha is fantastic, also with lots of bumpy roads, people and bikes walking along them in a fairly chaotic arrangement. Lots of beautiful plants. Our neighborhood is a true African neighborhood, a bumpy dirt road, EXTREMELY narrow, with vegetable stands and tiny ramshackle establishments set up all along the side. We are among very very few white people living in the neighborhood, and the children of our neighbors smile and hug Liza when she gets out of the car. They hugged me too, actually. These people seem extremely warm and kind, though sometimes they hold out their hands for money immediately after ... it is a daunting but very exciting experience to know I'm going to live in this neighborhood and hopefully, with improving language skills and a smile, get to know my neighbors.
This is the view from the grocery store.
I'm really overwhelmed, but trust I'll settle in eventually. Please stay in touch and say hello whenever you want to.
We stayed in a fantastic hostel in Nairobi. It was clean, comfortable, had a computer with Internet, a 24-hour kitchen that could make hot sandwiches, and full of interesting people (mostly European and American), some of whom had been backpacking for months and months, all over the world. The hostel bedroom we stayed in was full of colorful bedspreads.
We got on the shuttle the next day from Nairobi to Arusha. It was a five-hour trip, and while it was logistically smooth, it was physically REALLY bumpy. Although this is the biggest main road between the two cities, it's full of potholes. For one long stretch in Kenya, our driver had to swerve all over the road to avoid huge potholes, or slow down to about 5 mph just to avoid breaking an axle. (Drivers here already make a habit of swerving into the opposing lane in order to pass, since there are no roads with more than two lanes. Many times, you end up unnervingly close to a directly oncoming car ... yikes!) The ride was full of sights: I saw a gazelle, a bunch of camels including a baby one, and two ostriches! I also saw many, many Maasai tribesmen (this is an enormous indigenous tribe in East Africa) walking their herds of cattle through the endless plains. They wear traditional robes in bright colors (sometimes plaids!), the men often have earlobes that have been stretched to great lengths by weights, and their shoes are made from recycled car tires. They also send tiny boys, who look as young as five years old, out to the fields with their own herds to supervise. This was quite incredible to see. Here is a picture of the plains they walked through. (I just wasn't comfortable sticking my camera out the window of a bus full of white folks ... it's a big effort to take out my camera and feel like a tourist.)
Arusha is fantastic, also with lots of bumpy roads, people and bikes walking along them in a fairly chaotic arrangement. Lots of beautiful plants. Our neighborhood is a true African neighborhood, a bumpy dirt road, EXTREMELY narrow, with vegetable stands and tiny ramshackle establishments set up all along the side. We are among very very few white people living in the neighborhood, and the children of our neighbors smile and hug Liza when she gets out of the car. They hugged me too, actually. These people seem extremely warm and kind, though sometimes they hold out their hands for money immediately after ... it is a daunting but very exciting experience to know I'm going to live in this neighborhood and hopefully, with improving language skills and a smile, get to know my neighbors.
This is the view from the grocery store.
I'm really overwhelmed, but trust I'll settle in eventually. Please stay in touch and say hello whenever you want to.
Tuesday, August 7, 2007
my extra luggage!
I write with just four days left in the US ... and I just sent out my blog announcement email, so if you're checking out my blog, hello!
While I was taking Suzuki pedagogy in San Diego, I got to experience some of the wonderful energy and generosity towards our Africa program that Liza has told me about. Because of the awesome work of Karla Holland-Moritz and Glen Campbell, the co-directors of the Strings by the Sea Institute, many musical families in San Diego know about our outreach program with Tanzanian kids. Throughout the week, we received donations of money, instruments, bows, music, and teaching supplies. It was truly exciting!
Of course, the whole thing about getting donations is that we have to find a way to physically GET them into Tanzania, where the kids need them. So Liza and I split up the biggest donations -- I took three full-size violins and one tiny violin; Liza took the full-size cello (!) -- into big boxes, and flew them home with us to Providence and Pittsburgh. I'll drive my little violins to New York, then they'll get checked (for a fee) through to Dubai and Nairobi, and then (hopefully) they'll survive the long, bumpy bus ride from Nairobi to Arusha.
If the instruments make it there unharmed, it'll be amazing.
All that being said: all you musical folks out there, if you've got instruments, bows, music, rosin, strings, teaching supplies, or money lying around unused at home ... please consider donating them to our Suzuki outreach program. If you/we can't afford the shipping this year, we can pick them up from you next summer.
(Liza will be glad I'm already putting in shameless plugs for us on the Internet.)
With love and thanks,
Ellen
While I was taking Suzuki pedagogy in San Diego, I got to experience some of the wonderful energy and generosity towards our Africa program that Liza has told me about. Because of the awesome work of Karla Holland-Moritz and Glen Campbell, the co-directors of the Strings by the Sea Institute, many musical families in San Diego know about our outreach program with Tanzanian kids. Throughout the week, we received donations of money, instruments, bows, music, and teaching supplies. It was truly exciting!
Of course, the whole thing about getting donations is that we have to find a way to physically GET them into Tanzania, where the kids need them. So Liza and I split up the biggest donations -- I took three full-size violins and one tiny violin; Liza took the full-size cello (!) -- into big boxes, and flew them home with us to Providence and Pittsburgh. I'll drive my little violins to New York, then they'll get checked (for a fee) through to Dubai and Nairobi, and then (hopefully) they'll survive the long, bumpy bus ride from Nairobi to Arusha.
If the instruments make it there unharmed, it'll be amazing.
All that being said: all you musical folks out there, if you've got instruments, bows, music, rosin, strings, teaching supplies, or money lying around unused at home ... please consider donating them to our Suzuki outreach program. If you/we can't afford the shipping this year, we can pick them up from you next summer.
(Liza will be glad I'm already putting in shameless plugs for us on the Internet.)
With love and thanks,
Ellen
Thursday, July 12, 2007
A little on the Suzuki method
It's just over two weeks until I leave for Tanzania! I write this from Nashville; this is my last full day visiting my boyfriend Tyler. Obviously, it's a really hard day for both of us. But we had a fantastic time here.
A few weeks ago, I had the wonderful experience of being reunited with Liza (my friend and collaborator in Africa) at the Ogontz Suzuki Institute in rural New Hampshire. Lize and I hadn't seen each other in two years! But we'd corresponded extensively through phone and email in order to set up the logistics of my moving to Arusha, and to keep up with each other's lives.
As friends, we picked up right where we left off. She is still hilarious and, in my Mom's words, "a pistol." In other words, she's still the fantastic, smart musician and friend that I'd move across the world to work with. I'm not surprised by this, of course, but it was enormously reassuring to be with her for a week. It was great to be able to ask her all my little questions about Tanzania whenever I wanted!
Liza and her sister Annie, a cellist who spent the past year in Tanzania, are faculty members of the Ogontz Institute. I spent the week observing some truly awesome teaching at the Institute, and enjoying the beautiful camp and adorable kids. This was my chance to get a little bit of "Suzuki immersion," watching great teachers, getting a feel for the way they teach the Suzuki repertoire and the basics of violin technique. While the Suzuki Method is in some ways a fairly standardized approach (the kids all play the same repertoire, learn their first pieces by rote, go to group classes, and have a very involved parent who is the "home teacher"), it's also an approach that allows for a lot of creativity and personality. Each of the Suzuki teachers I observed gave very different lessons, with different pedagogy styles and points of technical emphasis.
In a couple of days, I head to San Diego to get my Book 3 Suzuki Training unit done. I'll meet back up with Liza, take class every day, and (hopefully) go to the beach and enjoy some of my last days in the US. Now that is scary.
A few weeks ago, I had the wonderful experience of being reunited with Liza (my friend and collaborator in Africa) at the Ogontz Suzuki Institute in rural New Hampshire. Lize and I hadn't seen each other in two years! But we'd corresponded extensively through phone and email in order to set up the logistics of my moving to Arusha, and to keep up with each other's lives.
As friends, we picked up right where we left off. She is still hilarious and, in my Mom's words, "a pistol." In other words, she's still the fantastic, smart musician and friend that I'd move across the world to work with. I'm not surprised by this, of course, but it was enormously reassuring to be with her for a week. It was great to be able to ask her all my little questions about Tanzania whenever I wanted!
Liza and her sister Annie, a cellist who spent the past year in Tanzania, are faculty members of the Ogontz Institute. I spent the week observing some truly awesome teaching at the Institute, and enjoying the beautiful camp and adorable kids. This was my chance to get a little bit of "Suzuki immersion," watching great teachers, getting a feel for the way they teach the Suzuki repertoire and the basics of violin technique. While the Suzuki Method is in some ways a fairly standardized approach (the kids all play the same repertoire, learn their first pieces by rote, go to group classes, and have a very involved parent who is the "home teacher"), it's also an approach that allows for a lot of creativity and personality. Each of the Suzuki teachers I observed gave very different lessons, with different pedagogy styles and points of technical emphasis.
In a couple of days, I head to San Diego to get my Book 3 Suzuki Training unit done. I'll meet back up with Liza, take class every day, and (hopefully) go to the beach and enjoy some of my last days in the US. Now that is scary.
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