When I last wrote, I had just accepted an invitation to visit the small village of Lang'ata
We soon hopped in a "dala dala" (the minibuses that zip around like flies and pack people in like sardines - notoriously dangerous). Quickly I was reminded of my language deficiency as the toddler next to/on me kept grabbing the hair on my arm, repeating something like "wei-wei paka, wei-wei paka." Fortunately Ethan, sitting behind me and fluent in Swahili, understood and when I asked him what this child wants he smiled, "he's calling you a cat". I guess the child hadn't seen too many blond people so closely. So I jokingly told Ethan to tell the child I'm actually a lion and eat small children with no manners. He repeated this and the adults nearby laughed.
The child let me alone for a while until he announced he had to go to the bathroom. Evidently they'd been traveling a while and the child, who often wanted to get out of the minibus, had used the bathroom excuse before.
His mother, calling his bluff, told him to go ahead. I was oblivious to all this and would have moved the child off my knee had I understood, but I soon understood as my pant leg was getting wet and the child turned to me and grinned - I could not tell if he was embarrassed or proud. I assumed the latter. And so began the adventure into rural Tanzania
My pant leg as dry by the time we pried ourselves out of the dala dala, and we were now covered head to toe in orange dust as the other passengers opted for dusty air instead of suffocation. I was amazed by how quickly we had transitioned from the lush Sub-Equatorial forests to a low, dry desert. I felt somewhat comforted as many of the thorny trees resembled the Mesquites and Acacias of Arizona. But I was soon reminded how far away from home I was as we had moved from the foothills of Kilimanjaro to a distance where I could now see an unobstructed view of its massiveness directly to the north.
Lang'ata is a small fishing town along the shores of the Nyumba na Mungu resivoir south of Moshi. Most houses are made of mud bricks, while some are concrete. Nothing elaborate, nothing wasted. With occasional water and sporadic electricity, the residents fill tanks when there's water and plug in refrigerators when there's electricity. Ethan's house was newly constructed for the purpose of housing teachers should the volunteer program continue. Again, a basic construction, with a basic furniture collection, but lacking any furnishings (like a kitchen). The bathroom consisted of a small sink, a tank of water, the floor of a shower basin and a long-drop toilet (in other words, a hole in the floor).
After unloading my pack, Ethan said we'd have a walk through the town, which would be a great introduction to a minimally adulterated, authentic Tanzanian culture.
With several tribes forming the community, the people of Lang'ata were cheerful and welcoming. Women wear traditional clothing and have traded the colorful baskets they were known for carrying on their heads for colorful plastic buckets. Men wear a mix of traditional and western clothing. Many men/boys wore T-shirts from the States (for some reason many T-shirts had prints of the rappers Eminem and 50cent - I guessed that they're either popular in Tanzania US
As we walked through the meandering trails along the houses that make up the dusty village, friends of Ethan would greet us and invite us in to their houses. Ethan explained that he'd been teased for being rude when he first arrived because he'd would not stop and greet people, so we stopped often. However, greeting people is more than a cordial exchange of words. I soon learned that the custom was for guests remove their shoes, enter the home, exchange a script of pleasantries and sit in the living room while the host (most often hostess) brought us a drink - a Pepsi or tea. My Swahili hadn't improved much beyond four or five words, but many of the people had studied English in school, remembering enough to make a basic conversation - I'd just resolved to tell everyone that I'm from California California California Arnold Texas Arizona
Even the Maasai family (traditionally the nomadic, cattle herding tribe famous for their walking sticks, colorful robes and jumping) on the outskirts of town, brought out some piping hot milk and some stools for us to sit on while we joked about the English they knew and the Swahili and Maasai I didn't. They also got a pretty big kick out of the view-finder on my digital camera.
Ethan's situation was pretty good. He was well respected as a teacher and as a community member. I asked him a lot of questions about his life there and as he explained the in's and out's of the community, I learned that things are much more complicated than can be understood in a couple days.
But I did gather a few impressions and ideas: This town was not only home to a fishing village, but also home to a primary and secondary school, which were rather large (but not large enough) for the size of the community. As part of the Tanzanian public school system, children came from all corners of the country to study there. Many boarded, and some stayed with distant relatives or friends of family, which is a customary way of raising children: passing them on to someone who can better provide. The school in Lang'ata was not an especially renowned school. In fact, it was just above dirt poor, requiring children to buy their own desks (some brought buckets, while most sat on the floor), providing only a dozen text books for a hundred students and feeding them the most basic of basic foods.
It was explained that the Tanzanian Ministry of Education explicitly wanted quantity over quality in education. That said, only a few students, no matter how bright, actually had a chance for a good education and most end up trying to finish the equivalent of high school into their late teens and early twenties. Making things even more challenging, all materials are in English. This is meant to help the students, as English is also a compulsory course, but not all can understand English well enough. So classes end up being taught in Swahili and the exams are in English. A successful class is one with 25% passing. Ethan, who teaches math and physics, had high hopes of reversing that number, but has come to realize that he may not make much (statistical) change at all. Without a doubt, he his helping the community, especially the students because he teaches well. Other (Tanzanian) teachers teach through fear, as corporal punishment is common in classrooms. That is, teachers are still permitted to beat students with sticks.
While Ethan said it took him a while to accept that this is the way things are done, he has never thought of using corporal punishment, and has stopped other teachers in extreme situations. Being the first foreigner to work in Lang'ata , Ethan has certainly set a precedent, and hopefully the school will continue to draw talented help.
After a few days I decided to resume my journey. Departing the village as much smoother than my arrival as a Tanzanian Peace Corps official and her driver stopped by one morning to give Ethan a bicycle. They offered to take me back to the main road at Mwanga, but from there were headed the opposite direction to Dar Es Salaam Tanzania
http://wikitravel.org/en/Swahili_phrasebook
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