Pre-Service Training at Msimbazi Center or “Training for the
Real Training”
4 October 2012
We are staying at the Msimbazi Center in Dar es Saalam,
Tanzania’s largest city, before we are to depart for Muheza, a district in the
Tanga region for the Community Based Training where we will live in a village
with a Tanzanian host family and continue Peace Corps training in areas
necessary to work and live in the country safely and effectively.
Presently, Peace Corps trainees are like one big family in
that we live in the same place, eat all meals together, support one another,
and share a common goal that is to successfully serve the communities in
Tanzania. I’d say that our parents are the Peace Corps staff ranging from top
dog, the Peace Corps Country Director of Tanzania to the Peace Corps employed drivers. Credit is also due to the current volunteers
who have left their site to come and hold our hands and show us the way during
our Pre Service Training. Their excitement and eagerness to help is sweet and
for that I’m grateful. I’m sure they enjoy a break from their site and do
something a little different for a change. Probably speaking Swahili and living
with Africans day in and day out can become tiring; therefore, to meet and
greet a big group of people from their own country is refreshing and probably
helpful as they can return to their site with added freshness and a renewed
sense of purpose. I imagine that temporarily having meals cooked for them, enjoying
electricity, flushing toilets, shabby showers, and sketchy internet are highly
attractive for them too, assuming if they have none of that back at their sites.
I am very appreciative of their time and willingness to assist us. It’s also
fun to finally meet these people who I’ve friended on Facebook back in USA and
to finally see them for the first time in Tanzania.
Today is the first daytime in my new country. As we are
driving to the Peace Corps office in Tanzania, I looked out the window from our
mini bus and it pretty much resembles any third world developing country. Nothing
really stands out except that everyone has dark skin. Yep, I am in Africa! You have the standard off roads with dirt and
rocks, the landscaping a bit savage which adds to that tropical underdeveloped feel,
one must of course have the prerequisite plastic patio chair and table set in
local eateries, and what’s a third world country without vendors hawking their
ware on the street selling household goods and clothing and small shanty ma and
pop shops? I excitedly exclaimed to others when I saw my first Masaai Mara men
with their iconic red-checkered cloth swathing their bodies. I thought they
looked a bit out of place assuming they should belong in the vast and massive plain
with their spears en masse and not
strolling on the busy street in Tanzania’s largest city passing sellers pimping
porcelain dinnerware and beauty salons. It’s way too soon to judge anything. The
fact that the population is homogenous being Tanzanians and ladies wearing distinctive
bold African print dress with matching head wrap or head cover if they are
Muslims are enough to make me happy for this is truly a different culture. Black Africa. I have only been to Egypt
and Morocco, which is Arab in North Africa.
Now, I am in sub-Saharan Africa; this is the first for me and I’m clearly
in a different world.
I’m waiting patiently to get my first taste of Tanzanian
grub. Not that I’m excited to try ugali,
the white colored gruel consistency of play dough that is the national dish,
but eventually it’s going to have to happen. Like going to a doctor to get a
shot, I want to get it over with. Bring
it on ugali… let’s see what you’re all about.
In the next days, we will be receiving all the required
vaccinations, briefing session on administration, medical, safety and security,
food and water preparation along with the favorite topic of diarrhea,
introduction to Tanzanian culture, religions, mental health, development,
homestay and cross cultural… and of course Swahili lessons.
5 October 2012
More malaria prophylaxis, more vaccination shots, and more
of the same food items served at the center’s kitchen.
We were distributed a Peace Corps medical kit ranging from
ordinary items like condoms, ibruprophen, Peptol Bismol to the more serious stuff
like oral antibiotics, Coartem and a self-test malaria kit which we would have
to prick our finger for blood. It was a mighty comprehensive goody bag. If it
wasn’t for the Peace Corps Medical Kit label, one would think it was a tool kit
equipped with hammer, wrench, and assorted screwdrivers as it was heavy. I
received a reject box in that half of
the items were missing in my kit along with a broken tube of antibiotic cream
that spilled all over the case; therefore, making a greasy and gooey mess. I
remedied my kit to become complete by mixing and matching what I need from
another incomplete medical kit. I snagged
an extra dental floss…
Another gift from Peace Corps is a heavy-duty mosquito net
that we must hang over our bed. Malaria can be fatal; therefore, every
precaution is necessary to prevent illness and death by this particular infected
pregnant female Anopheles mosquito with a potentially deadly parasite, the
Plasmodium Falciparum. We will all need to continue our malaria prophylaxis during
our 27 months of service; for if we discontinue, this can be cause for administration
separation from the Peace Corps. The Peace Corps doctor told me that the dosage
is too mild to have long-term side effect when I asked if it is dangerous to be
taking it for this amount of time. I
don’t know if I’m convinced…
Another exciting highlight; however, this one is out of our own
pocket…and a limited one at that…is
the opportunity to purchase a mobile phone. I bought a cheap Samsung mobile
phone whose bell and whistle are a radio and torchlight. After owning an IPhone,
playing with this downgraded phone is like learning to drive a Kia after you’ve
owned a Ferrari. At the end of the day, a phone’s main purpose is to make phone
calls and if this $18.95 USD phone does the job, I sure ain’t complaining.
After I bought the most expensive sim card credit available, I returned to my
room to text Fendi my new Tanzanian mobile number. I took a while to compose a
simple text message and to successfully send. Surprised and delighted to
receive a reply! Strange, I thought. How
come I didn’t hear the phone make a sound...do cheap phones not give you a
ringtone on incoming text message? I’m spoiled…
Tomorrow, we will finally begin some basic language class.
This morning as I left my room for breakfast, I greeted a Tanzanian man in
Swahili. He looked happily surprised and told me that my Swahili (at this
moment, it’s basically non existent) sounds better than the girls with whom he
just exchanged greetings. That was a compliment to me and I will take that as
motivation to wholeheartedly learn the language.
If there was a break during the day or after dinner, instead
of socializing with others, I’m old and have
retired my party animal days, I return to my room to rest. It’s like a glorified prison cell where I
imagine high profile convicts like Martha Stewart or Leona Hemsley would stay
during their incarceration. The doors are painted gray and the walls a pale
depressing execution room green. There is a fluorescent light on the ceiling, a
sink in the room, a generous sized table that I am grateful to have, and a
closet with a key that is completely blocked by a bed with a mosquito net.
Lastly, a fan affixed to the wall would satisfy my cooling needs. Although the
room’s absence of color and ambiance is gloomy, its spartan quality suffices in
that all my needs can be met within these 4 walls. I think I would be rather
content if I was to live in a house along the line of this room. Peace Corps
will make my standards go down…and down and down…
6 October 2012
I woke up this morning at 3:30AM as a result of going to bed
at 9PM the night before. Later, as I heard the daily call to prayer and rooster
crowing, I thought it would be dawn and was prepared to dress for breakfast;
but alas, it was only 5:00AM.
Breakfast is consistent. There are five main staples: 1) boiled
eggs 2) funky red sausage the color and visual texture of monkey’s ass 3) a
fried flat dough uncertain of what it wants to be when it grows up, a tortilla,
crepe or a chapati? 4) banana 5) sometimes a bakery item be it sliced white
bread or fried dough. We make our own chai with a teabag, hot water, hot milk, and
sugar. I skip it all entirely because it’s too much work so I just fill my mug
with a teabag and hot water and call it a day. I’ve had enough chai in Nepal
and India and without real chai spices, this
ain’t chai, man. It’s just English tea with milk and sugar.
Since I woke up early this morning, I read manuals given by
Peace Corps. There will be tests that we need to pass in order to become
volunteers. If I don’t make it, that
means I suck big times and will be returning home with my head down and tail
between my legs…however, I will miss the breakfast sausage though. (kind of tasty,
but I would suggest to the manufacturer on toning down the hot pink food
coloring)
Today’s highlight was the following:
1)
Our very first brief Swahili lesson on
greetings. We were given a clear plastic envelope containing 2 dictionaries, a
hardcover lined notebook, pencil and an eraser. I feel like a school kid in 3rd grade; I love it. I’ll
admit; I’m a nerd. Big times. You
knew it was not going to be a snoozer when the language facilitator asked us to
sing “Jambo Bwana”. I let it ripped and couldn’t care less if I sounded like a
dude…Hujambo, hujambo bwana….habari gani,
nzuri sana…wagenzi mwakaribishwa Tanzania yetu, hakuna matata…
2)
We found out which village and family with whom we’d
be living for the next 10 weeks during homestay for our Community Based Training.
My village is Lusanga A near a main road
so technically there is electricity available; however, it depends if the
family had money to install it…guess I’ll
find out in several days if I’ll be using the Peace Corps issued rechargeable
solar light or not.
3)
We ladies, if money was given to the current
volunteers to purchase on our behalf, got to pick 2 kanga (African print cloth
used as skirt and other accessories) after a demonstration was shown on how to
wear the wrap. As Chelsea and Julie were putting out the kanga on the table in
front of us, 2 of each design, obviously we female trainees were eyeing them
like an African kid in Disneyland’s candy store deciding on which 2 to chose. Hmmm…how are they going to fairly distribute
them to us as each person may have her favorites and may not get to pick their
choice if someone else takes it first?
They announced that there was no fair way to give them out so we just
need to go for it. Like famished hyenas drooling over a cute fluffy rabbit, we
got up from our chairs and pounced at the table. I picked what I had previously
eyed. When Julie opened a deep red kanga with black decorative border and black
huge teapots as the main design, BINGO…that
one will be mine even if it means mauling a fellow Peace Corps trainee! Actually,
I was confident that I’d be able to choose it because I don’t think that color
and design is everyone’s “cup of tea”! Oh
gosh, how funny am I? Get it? Teapot, cup of tea? Red is my favorite color
and I love teapot design so I was officially happy. With my teapot design kanga in hand, I scanned the rest and
nothing appealed to me. Out of no choice, I casually grabbed a dark aubergine
colored one believing it may have grapes on it. Again, another favorite design.
Clearly, I like figurative motif instead of a decorative pattern. When I opened
my dark purple kanga, what I hoped to be clusters of grape design turned out to
be one big tree in the middle with a solid background. Huh?... grapes don’t grow on trees…what the hell is this? As I
looked at the table, there remained 2 lonely kanga and one design had clusters
of grape! Sweet…oh wait, it’s a light
colored background…bad idea in dusty Africa, which is probably why it’s an
orphan. Honestly, I am not
particularly keen on my second choice but
some classmates proposed to trade as they all loved it. At the end, I decided
to stick to what I originally chose. Gut instinct decision is usually right;
besides, nobody’s kanga design really turned me on.
7 October 2012
After this morning’s session on Homestay
Social Etiquette, we will be walking around in Dar es Saalam. We have been
instructed not to leave the premise since we arrived in the country. So far we
have only seen the airport, Peace Corps office, an ATM machine at a bank, and
our current prison compound in Tanzania.
After being sequestered for several days,
we took a small local bus to visit the post office, YMCA, and a supermarket to
purchase items needed for our homestay. In another word, everyone bought TOILET
PAPER! Enough said.
The other option is your left hand.
The African women are a three-piece walking
work of art. A flamboyant colorful print is made into a mutton sleeve blouse,
trumpet skirt and matching head wrap as stylish as a dove. I am enamored with
cultures that have retained their traditional dress. To be a woman is a
privilege. We can dress up and according to our mood, wear colors and designs
that reflect our state of being. I find it extremely interesting how in third
world countries, women take more pride in their dress than the developed west.
In a capitalistic society, it’s about the designer tag, status, and making a “statement”.
The marketing ploy of the giant conglomerates has us believing that a designer
label will make us a more likeable and attractive person. We, in a
materialistic society, have been brainwashed in buying into status and a
pretentious world. In countries heavy on tradition and unity, it’s cultural
preservation and ethnic pride. It’s exciting to see women taking great care in
their appearance in a natural way. No artifice such as plastic surgery,
excessive cosmetic use, or any false attachments. Granted, they can’t afford
it, but it’s still not in the mentality because focus is not on youth or
extreme vanity. A woman is a natural Goddess. A dressed up African woman can be
a caricature of a wild silhouette. She is a queen in her kingdom.
Having seen Eddy Murphy’s movie, “Coming to
Africa” in the final wedding scene where all the ladies looked like African
Barbies with their fancy puffy doll-like dresses…never in my wildest dream would
I be living in Africa one day…and to potentially wear flagrant African dresses.
8 October 2012
Today was a continuation of briefing for
more medical and developmental topics. Tomorrow, we will be taking a 6 hours
bus ride to Muheza where we will be living with a host family to begin our
Community Based Training. The real training begins now. Karibu Tanzania!
No comments:
Post a Comment