My First Birthday in Tanzania: The Bash That was Almost a Bust

May 6, 2013 

I was stoked, big times when I turned the big 40. Honestly, I wanted to get to the point and stop lollygagging with the late 30’s. Come on 40’s…bring it on! I’m definitely happier as each year passes and moreover, with each decade. Frankly, I don’t want to be in my 20’s again; although, I had fuller lips, my legs were beautiful and shapely back then and I had no telltale signs of having given birth to a human. Like the genie in Aladdin, freedom is all what I want. When you’re in your 20’s… you’re broke, have pressure about future, and worse is not knowing what the hell you want to be and do… let alone knowing who you truly are.  Oh and the worse is “why doesn’t he call me?” I’m still not rich; clueless about my future, and still figuring out what I want to do, but at least I know who the hell I am…and it’s usually me who doesn’t call. The difference in my psyche is that now, I truly don’t give a hoot about any of that. I’m free from it. I’m just happy to get up from my bed in the morning and still have my memory and can pee and walk by myself.

Turning 45 is no big rip. I feel good and am young at heart. The realization I am having is that I’m now approaching the next decade, the big 50. Okay, honestly, I don’t know if I’m totally cool with this. I’m now slowly but surely walking down the path of Depends, Medicare, buying hair dye by the crate, and God forbid I shop at Chico’s. No offense, Chico fans. All of my friends are a bit older than me, so I apologize friends if I have offended your sensibility on your ages…I may be a grandma in no time. My mother became a grandmother at the age of 46! I told my kid, get prego now and don’t look at me as your granny babysitter ‘cause I’ve just begun to live and I ain’t lettin’ no pet and no baby tie me down, thank you very much!

Last year I spent my birthday in Goa, India where I chilled at this beach town for 6 weeks just doing what you do at beach towns…nothing. Actually, that’s not entirely true. At an Indian hospital is where I completed my exams for Peace Corps medical clearance. I read all books written by Chetan Begat, overdosed on sugar cane juice which it’s just a matter of time before I’m diagnosed with diabetes type 1 and 2 combined, ate lots of seafood and drank lots of tiny cups of chai and Signature whiskey and smoked shitty Indian cigarettes when offered. The actual day, May 6, was uneventful; although, I wore my expensive saree to a friend’s house where his wife cooked chicken curry and chapatti and I was given the only chair, white and plastic, while everyone sat on the floor.

This year, I decided to do something just for the sake of doing something ‘cause I can and it’s my damn birthday so why the heck not? I’ve drawn and made invitation to invite some people over to my village crib for some birthday action. I’ve invited all the teachers at the 2 primary schools, 3 medical personnel at the dispensary, some young dudes and ladies are who are my closest friends, and some village leaders and other figures who I deem appropriate. Over 30 some guests invited. Due to the recent soccer ball soap opera fiasco, I’ve decided to be kosher and invite *Machiavelli and *The Muppet Show as a sign of friendship and that all is good in my hood. “Look, I’m not angry. I’m inviting you to my birthday gig, so I can’t be angry, right?”

*Characters in a future blog currently in production. And what a story it is! Stayed tuned, folks.

I gave money to my house girl and asked her to travel into town on Friday, May 3 to buy the provisions necessary for the partaaay. Originally, we would go together but I plan to go to town to work and run some errands so instead of doing the dreaded ride again, I’ll let her shop for me and I’ll go in couple days later. Also, I hate missing to teach class. I’m doing “malaria month” and I want to finish up the lessons.

I ended up not teaching that day as a friend and I had to walk the village to hand deliver invitations that haven’t been given out yet. I have no clue who lives where and needed a guide. I also had to find the owner of the shack store to order 2 crates of sodas because no partaaay in Tanzania is complete without sodas, and lastly to arrange some furniture and place some colorful kanga over tables just to make my crib more festive and attractive. Trust me, there is nothing attractive in houses situated in a farming community in Africa. My house is probably deluxe, primo, top drawer, and awesome compared to other houses in a rural village. Huge heavy bags of tomatoes, potatoes, rice, meat, and other food items were delivered first. (she over bought, big times) I don’t know where my house girl was, but I supposed she asked a lorry who was coming into my village to drop off the stuff while she attended to a cake I’ve asked if she can try to either bake or buy.

My birthday party was at 2PM on a Saturday, May 4. My house girl didn’t return into our village until Saturday at 12:30PM! Holy crap, who’s going to cook?! I have a very keen and sensitive intuition that before an event happens, I can already feel nervousness, as a prediction of something not smooth will happen. I woke up feeling very okay and I thought, worse come to worse if there is no food on time, nobody in my village expect I can cook Tanzanian food for a small crowd by myself. Plus, this is Tanzania where everything and everybody is LATE!

Make a long story short, at 10:30AM, a friend had to call the help of other friends to come cook. This was my house girl’s job to gather cooks. Obviously, she didn’t arrange that before her departure into town. Finally 3 friends came to my rescue. Meanwhile I am peeling potatoes, grating carrots, dicing tomatoes while developing Carpel Tunnel Syndrome. More people came to help. Thank God for these ladies who know how to cook for a crowd. Cooking in Tanzania is punishment, if you ask me. Firewood is used and it’s a matter of years before you develop some kind of respiratory tract infection, lung cancer or blindness from the wood smoke. These ladies huddled in a log cabin cooking for me. You see them grimace as the smoke is overwhelming but they are strong to be able to withstand hours of being in a smoke filled room.

It’s 2 PM and food is not ready. Thank Mungu, (God) that Tanzanians are late for everything. I’m not German but I might as well be as I’m consistently punctual and even minutes early. One friend arrived earlier but he bicycled from a nearby village, which is an hour away. Few arrived an hour later at 3PM and still food is not ready.

People started to come at around 4PM, I suppose. Out of 30 something guests I invited, only 10 came. I had a total of 14 at my party. Aside from giving out the invites last minute where some people had prior obligation of family emergency and needing to go into town, here is what happened:

*Without divulging too much as this deserves its own story, as it’s something interesting, pathetic, ridiculous, and totally unnecessary…but mostly, it’s a study in human nature. There is an “issue” in my village involving myself and the village leaders, which comprise of government leaders and those in the higher position in a village setting. The community is divided between supporting them or me. To be politically correct and absolutely kosher, I invited these figures…or characters as a sign of friendship and camaraderie with no hard feelings. When I personally handed my handmade party invitation to them, they were smiling and friendly, so outwardly, we are fine as we still greet one another. Truth is, I don’t care if they come or not because I don’t “hang” with them anyway, but again, in life, one must do what is appropriate and not what one always wants. Aside from the village leaders not showing, others did not attend for fear of appearing to be “on my side” even if they think I’m right and do support me but again, people rather be in the majority and not rock the cradle and be a rebel. The villagers are easily persuaded and think their leaders are right since that is what they are being told. A teacher told me that the uneducated villagers have “low vision and don’t know how to think”, hence they are easily led to believe whatever the government tells them. The founder of my village and the longest running chairman was invited to my party. He asked if the current chairman was coming to my party. He said that he would attend only if the other comes. When I heard this from a friend who shared this with me, my thought was “Holy Batman, are you serious? He’s 85 years old and he can’t come on his own?” This is a prime example of not strapping on your big boy balls and deciding for yourself. People can still come to celebrate a birthday and put aside their differences.

Things happen for a reason and being the ultimate optimist, I had an absolutely wonderful time at my own birthday gig with exactly the people who I wanted to spend time with. Life and association with people should be about quality not quantity. I had so much fun and felt really loved by those who came. I was sad that a female teacher and especially a young male friend couldn’t make it due to his punctured bicycle tires. This young lad is my young Dalai Lama in that I am his western tutor and eyes to the outside world.

Oh, she was late returning home because of the birthday cake. I basically told her, go get a cake, go ask someone to make a cake, it would be great to have a cake...just make it happen! But I did tell her that if it’s too complicated, dump it! Being the obedient and trustworthy house girl and now friend that she is…she went to a bakery in a different village and since there was no pre ordering, she stayed to wait for the cake to be made and baked. She had to spend the night in town to wait for the cake the next morning. Being this is village life, she had to wait for a while for either a motorbike or car to hitch a ride back home. All this effort because I told her I wanted a cake. Damn, that’s loyalty, reliability and dependability…you’re hired!

Tons of food was prepared: beef stew, potatoes, cabbages, pilau with potatoes and meat, and rice. The next day, kids and friends came over to eat more food as I invited all to return; it’s like a 2 days birthday party. I blew my wad feeding a village…I’m happy to do this.

I spent a lot of money on food, drinks and whatever incidentals to make it happen

(half of my monthly living allowance)…but the memory of the joyful time I spent with these folks was priceless. A friend, unbeknownst to me, took my Iphone and camera and snapped and videoed away. I’m grateful he documented my day. Birthdays are no big deal as everyone has it, but it was a space and time when I was truly happy. My 7 months in country, I can only think of 2 incidents when I can claim happiness and having fun”. My little birthday party was the second event.

My Eddy Murphy look-alike friend brought his loudspeaker and stereo system so we fortunately had music to boogie to…and dancing we did a lot of. Another friend acted as the bartender as he was in charge of opening soda bottles and the photographer was also the DJ as music was played from his phone.

I’m truly touched by my girl friends who cooked for me, my young dudes who brought music and my house girl who bought the food and all the effort just to produce a cake, my birthday cake, so pretty with pink and white frosting and lovingly wrapped. Honestly, I was very surprised to see this. Where did you get this? This looks American or western. It’s too fancy for Africa!

If I repeat this gig again next year, I’ll be sure to find a mama in the village who can bake a cake, send our invitations earlier, organize a small army of cooks and oh, I wouldn’t change my principles or ethics even if it means being unpopular and nobody comes to my party because in life, I believe one should stand for what is fair and right. Good will always prevail and you will gain the respect of those who truly gets the drift. For those who are unable to see the light, help them understand. If that’s not possible, let it be.

Today is my actual birthday and I came into town to run errands on a gloomy Monday: bank, post office, buy phone vouchers, print photos for friends, buy food, send documents to Peace Corps, communicate with my family via Skype, and treating myself to a toilet, electricity, hot shower, and hopefully some stable internet so I may enjoy doing what I love most…reading friend and family’s birthday wishes via e-mail and Facebook and spending time by myself writing down my thoughts and ramblings.