I woke up ready to really work out and learn more Tai Kwon Do, and Tarika was ready to teach me.
Actually, that's only half true. We woke up not wanting to leave our warm beds, but we had a lot to do before our flight out and I was still unsure if I would have luggage.
When we did make it out to our practice yard, we had a proper audience; the staff really loved us. Not that they decided to join us or anything...
After we finished I grabbed the paper with my luggage info and headed into reception. All the ladies were keeping themselves busy either on the phone or shuffling papers, but as I turned to find a place to wait, one of the ladies handed the phone she was on to me. You know what that means? I was happily jumping for joy for several minutes.
At this point we still had about an hour before we were scheduled to meet Paul and Josephine to catch the taxi to the airport, and we spent this time qt the orphanage next door.
GOHECHI NURSERY SCHOOL
We walked through the open gate and entered into the school's courtyard, although calling it such is probably too grand a word for what really amounted to a 1/4 acre of packed dirt.
Standing before us and talking with another man was a sharply dressed guy in a black striped suit sporting a mandarin collar and a yellow tie. He welcomed us to the school and offered a brief introduction on what we would find. We were in the nursery school section of a group of centers scattered throughout Arusha that educated children that either did not have parents or whose parents worked to much to take care of them. Children without parents in Arusha are taken in by other famlies in the community.
Although we happened to find the school in passing, most of the Americans to visit in the past have come specifically after hearing of the school through a blog written by an young American student volunteer. She chronicled her work with them and all the plans and programs she was working with the school to implement.
Americans - well, all foreigners, really - are very welcome to visit schools. There is a general assumption that we are all completely loaded with cash. Compared to them, we really are. Tanzanians live very simply, in either mud or cement bricked homes. Dirt floors, or perhaps poured cement. Pattered squares of cloth to cover the windows.
Sunday, September 4, 2011
Are you okay?
Today's words:
Mambo (or Jambo, depending on location) - Hey
Poa - Fine/okay
The silly roosters started crowing way before dawn, but they were mostly drowned out by the never ending music from a local bar and the barking of Sandy and Henry, those puppies that live at the lodge and can be found wherever food is.
By 10 till seven we were awake and about ready for my first Tae kwon do lesson. There were kicks, stances, and forms to learn. We'd occasionally catch the local workers watching or pause to move out of the drive when cars pulled in.
Breakfast was buffet style with fruit, omelet, bread, and meat.
I was relieved to have packed a spare set of clothes that I could change into, but the electricity was out (which happened often), and it was much too cold to take a cold shower. Despite sitting practically on the equator, Mt Kili is still in the mountains, and it gets cold! I was incredibly grateful that I had packed my jacket and sweater in my day bag, but even still I was unprepared for the chilly weather.
As time passed and the lights did not come on, I began to wonder if we'd get light at all, seeing as there was already sunlight, perhaps they turn it off. I checked the switch for the hot water, making sure it was on, and then ran the water in the tap to see if it would get warm. Fortunately, it did and soon enough I had hot water to shower with. If you ever do decide to visit, this is important information to know!!
Electricity, as I mentioned, has been sporadic. Sometimes we were provided paraffin lanterns, but mostly we had to rely on our own headlamps for light in the evening. I saw a statistic that compares the water and electricity use of locals to tourists, and the difference is appalling. Then you look at the homes and realize that it's unlikely that they even have electricity or running water in their homes.
Now, while I was in the shower Tarika had been offered a walking tour by one of the property's gardeners. He said he could leave whenever, and at 10:30 he called out that he was off and took us around.
About Our Tour
I know for sure that our guide knew some English phrases - them he used as often as possible:
1) Ask me first for picture, okay?
2) Put picture away.
3) You okay?
4) That is very good.
The first two had a pattern of happening whenever we attempted to take a photo. Apparently it was never okay to take a picture, so most of the photos we took that day were from the first five minutes, and even then we had to pay for one.
Pay for one, you ask? You see, we were brought into this courtyard area where a group of men were sitting on a bench facing the world. The men got older as you ran your eyes from left to right. The man on the very left was introduced to us as the local leader and a Messiah. Our guide told us it was actually okay to take a photo with him, and afterward told us that the poor old man did not have money for lunch, so would be be so good as to give him whatever we could. Tarika got out a coin and handed it to him, but he shook his head and gave it back. We were then told how much to give.
At the next stop, a church that was being built, he told us we could go it, but I know that I was wondering how much this stop would cost us, and probably Tarika was wondering that as well. We both stood there on the road waiting for him to continue on, convince that otherwise we would be asked to contribute to the church building fund.
So as we stood there awkwardly he asked us, "You okay?" This wasn't the first time he asked us. It was definitely his very favorite phrase. He asked it whenever Tarika or I got quiet.
That last phrase was said in response to any question he ever asked us. Most questions tended to revolve around the cost of various goods in America, come to think of it.
Several clues make me doubt that he understood anything else: our walk to the exchange bureau after saying there was no need (in English and Swahili), his repetition of the name of one neighborhood when I asked him to tell me the names of all the neighborhoods we had walked through, his otherwise total lack of speaking to us unless it was about money...
The tour was a bit of a travesty, to say the least. Our guest got lost, passed by significant sites without comment, and ate the meal we payed for for us to share as if he'd never eat again. He ate meat off the bone and stuck the half eaten thing back on the shared plate to lick his fingers and grab more food. He took an empty airplane bottle of wine from my things and drank from the empty bottle without asking. Oh yes, and he walked so pole pole on the return walk that Tarika and I led the way.
We looked up taking a coffee tour for the afternoon, but everything seemed overpriced so we spent the rest of the afternoon at L'Oasis. I practiced Swedish with the owner of the lodge who just happened to be from the very northern bit of Sweden (there was a flag on the reception desk. Dead giveaway).
Later we also entertained the employees as we reviewed my martial arts in the front area of the lobby.
We ended the night playing cards and making silly videos.
P.S. Although I had about four different numbers for lost luggage on the paper they gave me and which I tried throughout the day, I have been unable to reach anyone to determine the status of my luggage. I sent an email as well, but no response yet.
Mambo (or Jambo, depending on location) - Hey
Poa - Fine/okay
The silly roosters started crowing way before dawn, but they were mostly drowned out by the never ending music from a local bar and the barking of Sandy and Henry, those puppies that live at the lodge and can be found wherever food is.
By 10 till seven we were awake and about ready for my first Tae kwon do lesson. There were kicks, stances, and forms to learn. We'd occasionally catch the local workers watching or pause to move out of the drive when cars pulled in.
Breakfast was buffet style with fruit, omelet, bread, and meat.
I was relieved to have packed a spare set of clothes that I could change into, but the electricity was out (which happened often), and it was much too cold to take a cold shower. Despite sitting practically on the equator, Mt Kili is still in the mountains, and it gets cold! I was incredibly grateful that I had packed my jacket and sweater in my day bag, but even still I was unprepared for the chilly weather.
As time passed and the lights did not come on, I began to wonder if we'd get light at all, seeing as there was already sunlight, perhaps they turn it off. I checked the switch for the hot water, making sure it was on, and then ran the water in the tap to see if it would get warm. Fortunately, it did and soon enough I had hot water to shower with. If you ever do decide to visit, this is important information to know!!
Electricity, as I mentioned, has been sporadic. Sometimes we were provided paraffin lanterns, but mostly we had to rely on our own headlamps for light in the evening. I saw a statistic that compares the water and electricity use of locals to tourists, and the difference is appalling. Then you look at the homes and realize that it's unlikely that they even have electricity or running water in their homes.
Now, while I was in the shower Tarika had been offered a walking tour by one of the property's gardeners. He said he could leave whenever, and at 10:30 he called out that he was off and took us around.
About Our Tour
I know for sure that our guide knew some English phrases - them he used as often as possible:
1) Ask me first for picture, okay?
2) Put picture away.
3) You okay?
4) That is very good.
The first two had a pattern of happening whenever we attempted to take a photo. Apparently it was never okay to take a picture, so most of the photos we took that day were from the first five minutes, and even then we had to pay for one.
Pay for one, you ask? You see, we were brought into this courtyard area where a group of men were sitting on a bench facing the world. The men got older as you ran your eyes from left to right. The man on the very left was introduced to us as the local leader and a Messiah. Our guide told us it was actually okay to take a photo with him, and afterward told us that the poor old man did not have money for lunch, so would be be so good as to give him whatever we could. Tarika got out a coin and handed it to him, but he shook his head and gave it back. We were then told how much to give.
At the next stop, a church that was being built, he told us we could go it, but I know that I was wondering how much this stop would cost us, and probably Tarika was wondering that as well. We both stood there on the road waiting for him to continue on, convince that otherwise we would be asked to contribute to the church building fund.
So as we stood there awkwardly he asked us, "You okay?" This wasn't the first time he asked us. It was definitely his very favorite phrase. He asked it whenever Tarika or I got quiet.
That last phrase was said in response to any question he ever asked us. Most questions tended to revolve around the cost of various goods in America, come to think of it.
Several clues make me doubt that he understood anything else: our walk to the exchange bureau after saying there was no need (in English and Swahili), his repetition of the name of one neighborhood when I asked him to tell me the names of all the neighborhoods we had walked through, his otherwise total lack of speaking to us unless it was about money...
The tour was a bit of a travesty, to say the least. Our guest got lost, passed by significant sites without comment, and ate the meal we payed for for us to share as if he'd never eat again. He ate meat off the bone and stuck the half eaten thing back on the shared plate to lick his fingers and grab more food. He took an empty airplane bottle of wine from my things and drank from the empty bottle without asking. Oh yes, and he walked so pole pole on the return walk that Tarika and I led the way.
We looked up taking a coffee tour for the afternoon, but everything seemed overpriced so we spent the rest of the afternoon at L'Oasis. I practiced Swedish with the owner of the lodge who just happened to be from the very northern bit of Sweden (there was a flag on the reception desk. Dead giveaway).
Later we also entertained the employees as we reviewed my martial arts in the front area of the lobby.
We ended the night playing cards and making silly videos.
P.S. Although I had about four different numbers for lost luggage on the paper they gave me and which I tried throughout the day, I have been unable to reach anyone to determine the status of my luggage. I sent an email as well, but no response yet.
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