progress report

Once again I find myself in the computer lab in Mpwapwa, where we arrived this morning after an uneventful bus ride. I guess it was mostly uneventful--bus is supposed to accommodate about 60 people, but we estimate that our bus had about 100 people on board. Tony had elbows and asses in his face (we actually had seats--lucky us), chickens at his feet, and some woman kept stroking my hair as she was trying to hold on to the back of my seat. Our bus driver--it's always the same guy--is this extremely cool, distinguished man in his late 40s, and he keeps his eye on us to make sure we're ok. It's getting hot--we're coming up on summer here in Tanzania--and the expression commonly used here is jua kali ("fierce sun.") No kidding--fierce is an excellent adjective. Yesterday I left our house at 8am to walk into town to buy eggs; I thought I was being very clever for leaving so early, but I was wrong in two ways: first of all, the sun was already brutally hot and strong, without a cloud in the sky, and secondly, all the people who were drinking pombe (home-brewed alcohol) the night before were just making their way home, so I got surrounded by drunk men who thought it was hysterical that I couldn't speak Kigogo (local tribal language.) Extremely entertaining. I returned home a sweaty, frustrated mess. My temper has been short; many people are so patient and encouraging and welcoming, and that makes this whole transition easier, but when the jerks antagonize me and act ignorant about how difficult it is to live in a radically different place, I get angry. As my Kiswahili improves, I can tell them that they're being jerks, but right now all I can say is "I'm a guest here in Kibakwe, and I'm trying to speak and understand Kiswahili. Please speak slowly." Of course I can say this very well in Kiswahili, because I say it every day.

Anyway, here's what's new: we painted our bathroom with bright, shiny white paint, and installed a shelf for our toiletries. Unbelievable difference. Tony installed bright, shiny white tiles on the bathroom floor yesterday--I helped by handing them to him--and even though we're not finished and it's kind of crooked and some are broken, I can tell it's going to be great. Our houseboys built a fence around our little flower garden, and Tony will build a gate for it next week. We started using our hotplate, and I thought this would be the answer to all my prayers, but I was very wrong: the electricity is not grounded in our house (in Tanzania? I don't know), and I learned this by touching it without wearing shoes--got shocked across the room. After much crying and swearing, I figured out what happened. Shoes are now mandatory during any electric cooking. I forgot once, and got shocked again. Ok, now I won't forget to wear shoes. Stirring with wooden spoons: good idea. Stirring with metal spoons: bad idea. Another shock. Holding the pan with a dry towel while stirring: good idea. Holding the pan with a damp towel while stirring: bad idea. Shocked again. As if I can remember this while I'm trying to cram my brain with Kiswahili. I don't mean I got little baby shocks; I got monster shocks that I could feel all the way from my affected hand down to my toes. Baked four times last week: banana cake, brownies, chocolate fudge cake, and toffee cookies. (Great idea for your next care package to us: oats and chocolate chips!!) When one of our houseboys ate a piece of the chocolate fudge cake, he declared "This is the first time since I was born that I ate chocolate cake." He's 23. They also tasted peanut butter for the first time, and are enthralled. [Peanuts grow extremely well in Kibakwe, and I'm hoping that we can introduce a peanut butter project (making peanut butter and selling it--in the Peace Corps world this is called an Income Generating Activity.) There are plenty of people and plenty of peanuts in Kibakwe--this could be an excellent source of income for some people who desperately need it, not to mention the nutritional benefits of eating peanut butter. Please send any tips about making it.] We managed to seal some of the wall/ceiling gaps to keep the rat crap out, and Tony built a 10 foot ladder that weighs about 150 pounds. I also learned and applied a few new words. We've been busy.

Plans for next week: finish tiling bathroom. Paint living room. Pray that fundi ("carpenter") finished our cabinets so our clothes can be moved out of our suitcases. Plot out space for garden and start fence. Visit Italian nuns--hopefully while they're cooking lunch--and try to get invited to eat with them. Figure out best time of day to walk to town so drunk people don't mob me. Meet up with the Mpwapwa crew of Peace Corps Volunteers (PCVs) to talk and laugh. Figure out best time of day to walk to town so drunk people don't mob me. Did I say that already??

Extremely weird tidbit: as we were walking to catch our bus this morning at 5:15am (still completely dark--sun rises at 6:30), we heard really loud music in town. As we got closer, we could see where it was coming from: one house with electricity had its lights on, and there was some kind of dance party going on. The music was BLASTING from giant speakers, about 10 people (in their 20s) were dancing with great intensity in the front yard, and a bibi ("grandmother") appeared to be chaperoning. Did it start this morning? Was it going on all night? What was the reason? We'll never know. Imagine witnessing this as you're walking with sleep in your eyes to jump on the smelly bus.