Transitions

I left my city of dreams just over two months ago to chase a new dream. Some might think I’ve gone insane or maybe that I’m just running away - afraid of committing and well, in some regards it’s a fair accusation as I feel, like most people, my biggest fear of all is settling. Settling for less than I hoped, less than I wanted and less then I knew I was capable of. Settling for a normal life, culminating in a series of pictures, memories and stories that will never reach the climax I once dreamed.

I guess that’s what I want to test; what I’m capable of.

During this “test” I’ve moved in with my parents, left an actual career and began my journey as a self-employed volunteer. I lost my little girl in Africa, a pain that will never really disappear, chatted endlessly with my grandmother who is suffering from Alzheimer’s, been accused on numerous accounts of being in high school and have become so dependent I actually own no physical keys. I’m on a mission I guess. A mission that’s practically fifteen-fold with no real clear defined goal or actionable five-year plan. In fact, after my vision of “success” is complete I’ll be launching into a highly low-paying job, and/or still attempting to run my own non-profit, with tons of debt and blown savings on days traveling as a hypothetical teacher.

But I can’t wait.

There are days where I stare at photos and yearn for my (get this) free-er, more liberating days in NYC, living with my two best friends, working endless hours and knowing no matter how broke or upset I was today, there would be a paycheck coming eventually and a friend that would down 5 martinis with me to drown the sorrows. Those days where the $400 a month heating was barely enough to keep my feet warm and mice ran between bedrooms in the dark, were actually inspiring and even magical. Nothing will ever replace those memories and my experiences in the big apple. But, like any chapter in life, there is a page that is turned. It must. I’ve never read a good book that only had one chapter.

One of my NY friends told me that he doesn’t really prescribe to the belief of having a life-goal, that his “…life is really more a serious of experiences strung together”. While that should have been an instant sign of commitment-phobia, I actually have taken a liking to the mantra.

As of now, I’ve pretty much put my complete trust in fate and God.

I’m almost done with my graduate applications, after months of GRE hell, pre-requisite economics, and struggling trying to write a simple statement that explains who I am. And I am now about to venture to China to teach English to small children for six months. I don’t have a visa, don’t speak Mandarin and not even sure I’ll make a good teacher at this point. Grammar was never really my specialty. But in many regards, it's out of my hands.

I guess if I were to summarize some sort of learning from all of this time “off”, “away”, or “apart”… I would say the following: happiness is a state of mind, money will never replace the wealth felt from making a difference, people will always be judging you but it is only your critique that matters. Time is as much a friend as it is an enemy. There is absolutely nothing that is permanent in life and at the end of the day, we are composed only of our memories, tales and stories.

So here’s to yesterday and tomorrow. But it is today, the right now, the in between, that is truly something special.

A Goodbye

Mwanaidi,

I remember the moment I met you. I had never seen a more sullen five year-old. Eyes that showed despair unlike anything I would ever understand and pain beyond your years. You hadn’t asked for anything, you could barely muster a word through your grief. It was then I uncovered my first mission; to make you smile.

I waited patiently until you returned to school, checking to ensure your Aunt stopped hitting you long enough for you to walk to Cheti. There you were, attempting to learn English, holding back the memories of loosing your parents to HIV and the absolute discomfort you felt from bruises and scars. I held your hand and promised I would be there for you. I sat with you while you tried to get through addition and watched as you slowly began to speak with the other school children again.

You were smiling. I had finally made you smile. I persuaded Zuma to take you to the clinic in the city to be tested. We rode with your Aunt and several other children in the dalla dalla into Arusha together… you sitting on my lap staring outside in wonder. I heard you scream during the test and sat alongside Zuma as the doctor read your results. You were positive.

Zuma spent the walk home trying to convince your Aunt that God would not forgive her if she continued to hurt you and that you must be taken care of given your health conditions. She ignored his remarks as she felt you were a tainted burden to her, not a gift from God as I saw you. I spent the walk home trying not to cry in front of you. Holding your hand and skipping along the dirt-ridden streets, I prayed to God that there was hope.

I brought you lunch everyday as your Aunt did not pay for porridge and it killed me to watch you sit, hungry while all the other children ate. It wasn’t much, and looking back it wasn’t enough.

My last day at Cheti, I walked into your classroom, greeted with the normal “good morning teacher” melody. You heard me and jumped around the corner to give me your now usual, gorgeous smile. I tried to have Teacher Ellie translate to you that I was leaving, that it was my last day but that I would always love you regardless of the distance between us. I don’t think you understood. How could you?

Broken hearted, I left you. I never wanted to have to say goodbye… but I have been following you through photos and saw you happy, dancing and playing. I felt for sure there was an angel watching as so many other volunteers began to care for you.

But now you are gone. You were never given a chance to dream. All you ever wanted was happiness. The evils that haunted your little life have finally won. But little do they know, they gave you peace at last.

You will now live forever amongst the angels of the world and in all the hearts that you have touched. You will be my mission forever; to give that chance to smile to more little girls just like you that deserve far more than what life handed. I will forever love you...

Lost and Found

I realized today that I have not given myself or possibly my life enough credit.

Every January for the past three years I have set “goals” for the upcoming 365 days. This list consists of new dreams, reminders of previous aspirations or simply realizations that I had been neglecting certain aspects of life. I find the idea of resolutions rather repulsive as no one actually intends on keeping them and I have always believed that if we see these “annual checkups” as goals or dreams versus mandates or declarations, we may be more inclined to aspire to complete them.

Last year, my 2009 Aspiration List included several things about traveling, (Africa clearly being one of them), going on more picnics, taking dance classes, spending more time with family and then at the very end of the list I had written down; “find God”. It is not that I had not believed he was there or even that I had not spoken to him before, but for whatever reason – I felt the need to make it an objective for the upcoming year. Knowing very well that I had no idea how I would accomplish this or even why I felt it was required, I left it on the list and did not think twice about it. It was not until today that I realized that I had indeed found my God.

I was sitting in church today listening to the sermon, (which spent the good first half discussing the evil we all know as advertising…. typical), but which focused primarily on being satisfied with your life and not letting “distractions” deter us from where it is we want to go and who it is that we want to become. Our Pastor spoke about the fact that the closer you get to doing and acting on behalf of God, (or in non-religious terms, “the more you do good things”), the closer you feel to God and your life’s purpose.

It was then that I began having flashbacks to one of the first times that I felt like I was being heard and understood by God. It was early last fall when I had finally made the decision that I would book the trip and take the risk to go to Africa. I was nervous and unsure of the potential financial and job related impact it might have. While decisions have always been difficult for me given my Libra status, I felt a powerful inclination to follow through.

One cool, autumn Sunday afternoon, I was riding back from Trader Joes on the 3^rd Avenue bus and decided to flip open a book we had received in church that day from a guest speaker. The book and the speech were both enforcing the idea of “realizing your potential” and living an extraordinary life. I began reading the first paragraph, as simultaneously my iPod started playing Jay Z and Toto’s “Rains down in Africa” remix. As I listened, I read the author recounting his experience in Arusha, Tanzania.

While there are certainly random occurrences, this felt like something bigger. God was telling me I had made the right decision. From that point on, everything regarding my trip moved seamlessly. My job allowed me the time off, money was fundraised for my flight, and all of various minute details seemed to alga mate together as if it was driven by fate.

This was not the last time I had a “moment” where I felt a presence, but it was most certainly the most impactful. Remembering this during church today made me realize that I was creating who I was supposed to be and that I had indeed found God through my journey to Africa.

While this may sound way off the rails, as some may know, I’m not the most religious person by any means, but I believe that this experience has helped not only define me, but my future and my relationship with God.

As I bring to life my 2010 Aspiration List, I will proceed knowing that I am indeed not going astray and that who I am becoming is who I’m fairly certain intended to be. After all, “who we become is much more important than what we accomplish”.

Introducing: Cheti Sponsorship Program

I have been home now from Tanzania just over three months. While the time I spent in Africa exists in my mind like an untouchable time capsule, my love for the children and the country grows stronger every day, driving me to focus on the changing the bad that I saw by expanding on all of the good that I found at Cheti.

Upon returning home, we have been preparing, planning and organizing and now... I need your help spreading the word.

I would like to introduce to you our organization: Cheti Sponsorship Program.

Cheti Sponsorship Program is determined to providing opportunity to the vulnerable children in need in Tanzania through education and supporting better health and well-being.

I would also like to introduce to you Mwanaidi Shabani. She is 5 years old. Her parents have both died of HIV in the past year and she currently resides with her abusive aunt. After weeks of working with her in the classroom, listening to her constant aches of pain from both sickness and beatings, we took her to get tested. She too, is HIV positive. At home no one feeds her, no one cares. At Cheti, she is loved, she is fed and she smiles. She has since found a sponsor; someone who is committed to her and her chance at a future.

They say a smile is the only language we can all understand. At Cheti School, smiles are all around as they represent the hope and opportunity the students feel and receive through their education.

Thus far, we have 23 Cheti Students sponsored. But there are more students who need sponsors. There are more books that need to be read, more desks to be used, and more uniforms to be worn. Cheti has classrooms with no roofs, students with no food, and orphans with no hope.

Help us help Cheti and create opportunity for a better tomorrow in Arusha, Tanzania.

Like Us: www.facebook.com/sponsorcheti

Learn More: http://www.sponsorcheti.org/

Donate Now: (paypal button to the right)

Africa and Me

Africa is all around me.

I wear it, I smell it, I talk about it and I dream about it, every day.

I have been trying to keep it close; trying to keep the emotions it aroused fresh, and the feelings I felt, within me at all times.

I feel guilty when I go for a couple hours and forget; forget the pain it caused me to leave my children and the unmistakable grief I had to overcome adjusting back to the “modern world”.

I finally feel like I am back to being myself. Although I cannot really say that my current self is the same as the self I was before stepping foot for the first time on that red dirt, breathing in that burnt air.

I have not been saying much because for the past couple of months I have been at an emotional standstill. Buried within a mixture of gratefulness, anxiety and borderline desperation to make changes in my own life that will reflect the new self I have become.

Typical of my old self, I came home and have a to-do list down to the ground with ideas and programs and initiatives and personal goals and objectives and plans and so much more I can hardly think straight through it. All I continue to see are the pictures I brought home with me. All I hear is the sound of Zuma’s voice reminding me that I was brought to him from God, brought to Tanzania for a purpose and that by being his friend, I was encouraging him to do more. All I know because of this, is that I need to do even more, give even more and get others to care even more.

I also know I miss it.

I miss learning while I was supposed to be teaching, being flooded with gifts of love when I was the one intended to give. I miss hearing the chorus of “good mornings” and the adorable smiles goodbye. I miss making a difference.

As I move into the next chapter, (or paragraph), of my life, I will continue to wear my beaded bracelets and handmade scarves, stare at photos and re-watch the few videos I took… I will continue to keep Africa within me.

making sense of the grief.

i am heartbroken.

i left behind an experience that changed my life and will define my future.

i left behind a school that has changed my perception and my goals. a director that gave me more than he had and taught me the meaning of love and understanding. Chet School was a gift from God. i found students that represented hope, blackboards that signified progress and stories of familes that shook me to my core.

i had quickly become a teacher, a mentor, a sponsor and a friend. i spent my mornings teaching English and watching over the handful of students i had begun to love. i watched students conquer addition, read from the school's 4 English books, and listened as they sang about the stars and the bumble bees.

i spent my afternoons with our director, talking about life, religion, politics and education. i interviewed endless families. families that consisted of hopeless mothers and orphaned children. i sat on chair after chair, welcomed with open arms into their 1 bedroom houses, surveying the belongings of 5, 6, or 7 people and listened as they told me about their lives on 10$ a month. i met people who were dying and people still mourning those they had lost. i took mothers and children to be tested and held their hands as the HIV results were read.

sometimes, i cried. and some days, the tears were just too heavy to fall.

i left behind two children in particular. these children may never be "mine", but they will always be a part of me. while their stories of sufferring are heartbreaking, their smiles make my heart whole again. school is their saviour in more ways than one. i think of them every morning and every night and pray that education will be enough to pull them through poverty and that my sudden absence doesn't discourage their fath.

i spent most of my evenings recounting the events of the day. sharing the grief and finding humor in our cultural clashes. i took weekend trips and endless pictures. i became a local, and despite my mzwungu, (white person) status, i lived there and understood their life.

while the sadness that remains in my heart is overwhelming, it cannot override the raw beauty of the continent, the country and the people i met.

i always knew this trip would "change me", i just didn't anticipate the levity of these stories and the journeys that left an unrelenting ache in my heart.

back at the grind, i have brought home with me several new things: a new mentality, a new perspective, and a new understanding for passion and what it can do.

in my free time, i have become dedicated to finding sponsors for the children i met who have little hope, little family and little love. children that without education, will never amount to more than a vegetable seller or a cattle driver. it's true they may not know better, but that does not justify their lives or give me reason to know them and not do anything to help. i, and a few other volunteers, started a sponsorship program and will watch it grwo along with the children that will forever carry a place in my heart.

i was once told that you cannot understand your own purpose in life until you find something that you love more than yourself. i hope that everyone is lucky enough to have an experience such as this... something that shakes them up and allows them to question their very understanding of life.

if you would like to help me in my efforts through volunteering, sponsorship or donation - please contact me at jessica_a_shipman@yahoo.com

final donation: 2010

thank you again to all of those who supported, donated and helped in some way to raise money and awareness for my trip and the children i taught in tanzania.

after much deliberation on what and how to best spend the donated funds... a decision has been made. below is a list of the allocation for 2010's donation. some of the raised money will be saved until next year, as 2011 will bring along a new academic year and new challenges.

• porridge for both the C3 and C4 schools for 3 months (this will most likely be one of the only meals these hundred or so children will recieve every school day... your basic mixture of flour and sugar)
• roofing materials to finalize one of the C3 classrooms (as they quickly approach rainy season, this will allow them to still continue with teaching)
• extra stationary/school books for 5 students (many students cannot afford to purchase their school books... in which they then sit in class and watch everyone else in the class writing)
• swahili reading books for the C1 primary class (right now, english reading books have been donated, but they still need to perfect their native language as well)
• additional pencils, erasers, chalk, etc for all classes (it's painful to watch students fight over the last pencil or "rubber"... there should always be a surplus)
• helped Zuma purchase his 4th piece of land which will quickly (by next January) become the home of Standard 2 primary class (2nd grade) and eventually... his secondary school
• Nursery tuition for Maspala Juma
  

i've posted pictures with this that correspond to the various items we're donating.

together, my friends and my family have helped push Cheti School forward. you may feel like i didn't or you couldn't ever "save the world".

but together... we have fed children who don't always eat,

allowed a 5 year old to attend school, when it's his only hope of survival
and helped push the education of hundreds of 4-7 year olds who at the end of the day, smile the most when they are at Cheti.

we certainly can't do it all, especially by ourselves... so thank you all from the bottom of my heart.

the people/culture...

being a white person, i most likely have a completely different perspective on the people and culture in general. obviously - this is true of any outsider, but here's my two cents...

you cannot walk down the street without being harrassed by every local. by harrassed, i mean that in the most sincere, inquisitive way. they want to say hi, ask you how you are, touch you, direct you, call you rafiki (friend), mama (mom) or sister.

the firends that i've met are honest, good people who appreciate what you are able to give and don't expect anythign further. they love to hug you and give to you wahtever they are able to give... food, drinks, fabric, etc.

when tanzanian's interact - you can never really tell if they're arguing or joking. men who are friends, hold hands. women and men show no affection in public. if you're dating - you must always have a third party there to "watch over you". the muslims, christians, masai, and all various local tribes coexist peacefully. there appears to be an underlying respect for eachother and regardless of where we are... whoever we are with runs into someone else they know.

the masai in general are a hard culture to grasp. they still practice female circumsition, they are polygomists, and have a hard time caring about their children. the men live only with the women who provide the most food. men have "age mates" - or men who were born around the same time, they do everything together. become warriors, become respected elders, chase their first cattle together and are allowed to sleep with eachothers wives.

women are divorced for every imaginable and un-imaginable reason. i've heard of everything... because she has diabetes, gave birth to a mildly challenged child, has HIV, can't give birth, the list continues...

the men are all relatively slim and women are almost all obese. getting your hair done is a requirement regularly or, you wear fabric around your head.

they all love music (american hip/hop, r&b) and their own - bongo flava. the dalla dallas have all sorts of hip hop stars blasted all over, with lines such as "GET RICH OR DIE TRYING" on the back... oh the irony.

they all use pay-as you go phones, so there's no voicemail. there is no perception of time or personal space. swahili clock starts at sunrise, so technically 6 hours behind what it should be. if it's actually noon, in swhahili time - it's 6am. annoying.

the most difficult aspect to understand is the overall lack of trust. between eachother their government, etc. which makes our trust with them almost impossible. they steal from volunteers, and will give you mwzungu prices to get more money from you. this is lack of trust is part of the overall unhappiness that i only actually grasped after being there for a few weeks...

overall - the good people i met, are amazing. no one is out to harm you... they are all just trying to get by.

quote from geography of bliss...

"...but the point is not necessarily that we move to these places, but rather that we allow these places to move us. I believe, now more than ever, in the transformative promise of geography. Change your location and you may just change yourself. It's not that distant lands contain some special "energy" or that their inhabitants possess secret knowledge (though they may) but rather something more fundamental: by relocating ourselves, we shake loose the shackles of expectation. Adrift in a different place we give ourselves permission to be different people."

on the bus to dar..

i realize i haven't written in a while, with so many thoughts sometimes it's hard to organize it all coherently. plus - started reading a good book called the geography of bliss. excellent read about where you can find hapiness (word to the wise - it's in zanzibar :) ).

this week i've been thinking a lot about chances and education.
i thought before i got here that in this country (tanzania) educatino opened doors. that dreams can be discovered and goals can be accomplished through education. while this thought is partially true - i realized it opens 1 door. there is really only 1 option - which is 1 step above where they currently are.

the classes are prevelant in arusha. while thee is extreme poverty- there is also the upper class. they wear business-like suits, live in houses with more than one room and walk around the city with a sense of ownershi.
i suppose the class system is relatively the same everwhere in that regard.

the issues i'm learning about are the numberof barriers that exist as stopping blocks for the majority o f these children.
education is not 1 way out of their extreme poverty stricken life - it is the only way out.

they can't accidentally strike it big and win the lotto - as i haven't even seen that option.
they can't become mega-rap stars overnight or play for the knicks and solve all their family's problems.
while i'm sure there are examples of this that i'm unaware of - chances are too slim to chance.

with that in mind - i find it hard not to be tough with these bordlines malnuritoushed chidlren. what do they know? they better stop playing around and eating erasers and focus in class or else thier opportunity will fade in front of them.
it's frusterating to see students do poorly in school as it's not like bratty teen in the states who will still manage to get into ivy league beacuse of daddy's money. these kids are excited to come to school, they are *thank god* taught to appreciate education and no s ome level, understand the value.

i met a boy the other day walking along the orad - forgot the name - but our conversation made an impression on me. it was the same day Zuma mentioned how he never went to college. he reazlies the value and regrets missing this chance but this is why he started cheti school. he works for god, he says. what is education if not for teaching others and improving all our lives? i was thinking of zuma when talking tot his boy.
i asked him if wants to go to college and said he should try to go in the states. he said yes, this was one of his dreams. he was almost done with seconary dschool and was just scared and unsure of how to afford the visa and make something liekt hat possible.
i told him there are ways to make it work. he should then come back and help others in his own country. he nodded "... that is one of my other goals. to do good for others".

i gave him my email and told him we'd help him find a way.
for education without purpose is useless, even this boy understands that. here in tanzania, education is just 1 door. if only we can figure out how to help open more...

money update...

with (excuse typos - bad keys) just over $2,500 raised (and more donations still coming in!) for educational resources and food - wanted to give everyone an update on where it's going.

i wasn't planning on deciding until the end of my trip to ensure i figure out wht's really needed and where the money will be able to grow further - i have some initial thoughts thus far.

we are starting (kristina and i and some other prior volunteers who had been at cheti for 6mos) a cheti sponsorship program. there are many reasons why - which will be discolsed at the launch :) - bt essentially this is to sponsor an individual child for 7years through prmary school so they will be prepared for secondary school. i would love to do this myself (sponsor) if i find the right child to sponsor.

also - cheti currently has 4 schools. C3 and C4 are further out in the mountains and primarily are masai chidren. these children look the most malnurished of all, not to mention their overall dirty appearance. these schools serve them porridge which is usually the only regular meal they recieve. id like some of the money to continue this food program for about 4 months.

there will be al large sum of money remaining (i know... this money goes far -it is actually saving lives!) this i think will be best spent on actual school supplies. currently there are about 4 reading (english) books. primary school needs more, thye can read well and need the chance to read further. their pencils are mostly donated. the children usually chew theseas well as the erasers ( i think its out of hunger and non-diagnosis of ADD) sot hey need a lot of these as well.

you get the point.

either way - really looking forward to help pushing this school forward. i already love these children and it's a great school and cause to support. :)

3-day safari: serengeti and ngorongoro

beautiful adventure!
saw the big 5
2 landrovers, 1 driver and 1 cook in each car. there was a total of 9 of us girls that went in a group together.
windows down, top rolled back - the scenery was like nothing you've seen before.

the clouds were as big as mountains and the tips of the land at every valley and every mountain top.

the colors of green reminded me of ireland's vast countryside - but the trees, oh the trees. i love them! it was just like i envisioned africa to look like. breathtaking.

the animals run amongst you as if you were one of them.
we were literally feet from lions feasting on dead buffalo, zebras running across the road, wildebeast continuing along their migration. it was truly incredible.

sunsets and sunrises symbolized the continual circle of life that takes place between the valleys, the plains, the rivers and the mountains existing within the national park and the reserve. nothing we captured could encapsulate the beauty we saw.

on another note, i have some pretty funny stories to share regarding bats in bathrooms, and lions walking through campsites (i know... me, camping?!). nothing like really living in the wild :)

the food...

while the nation's poverty is obvious, malnutrition is not an obvious issue - at least in arusha.

their food is heavy, oily and at least 1 food item is fried per meal.

fruit is fresh - pineapple, mango, bananas and watermelon.
their vegetables are usually smothered. on the dalla dallas they smell of past due - but when mixed with the some sort of tomato based sauce their expiration date is hard to identify.

rice and ugali, (a corn starch based rice-like food) are their staples, served with most meals. that for french fries. although for the mnzugus (white people) are served pasta as well (thank goodness).

desert is not usually included in any meal. although the one time it was served, it was fried bananas.

there is barely any wheat bread - white everything. not finishing is not an option and not asking for seconds is rude.

everyone loves full whole cream (where you actually have to skim your own glass). they serve it with warm sugar and call it tea.... i finally started turning this down today as my stomach just can't handle any more.

there's a few popular beer options (it's "kili" time is a slogan plastered everywhere), but most tanzanians don't drink that much.

while we have been continually served seemingly delicious meals, the food just sits like a rock and immediately makes your stomach unhappy.
regardless of why this is (water, preparation, oil, etc) - after starting antibiotics, i'm pretty much sticking to just pb&j from now on. yikes... this is going to be a long 3 more weeks!

the poverty...

words cannot describe what i've seen.
when you are standing in the middle of a 1 room house with dirt floors and 1 bed starring outside at the chickens and the fire pit, you don't feel sad. your heart doesn't ache and you don't cry. The people who live here have a strength like nothing we know of. call it being naive, call it un-intelligence, call it what you want - but these people i have met have found something like happiness.

the dirt surrounding them and blowing consistently in their faces doesn't bother them. everyday, they walk straight through and play with the frequently placed, and public trash dumps. the smell of burning trash, grilled corn and non-hygienic neighbors doesn't make them blink. days pass and they eat porridge. living off of $50 a month doesn't kill them.

it is only when you listen to these tales of the strong... and only when the pride is set aside, that the anguish and pain is spoken- that is when you, yourself break.

you are left speechless...
you don't understand.
you can't apologize...
and you can't provide them anything to soften the pain and resolve their problems.

if you feed one, you realize - their abusive parent is HIV positive and they can no longer afford the schooling where they received the food.

if you paint the schools, you are reminded they still can't afford books or teachers to teach the students who fill the blue room.

if you buy pencils - you remember that even if they do finish primary school, pass the test into secondary school, are able to pay and complete "high school" - their options are still slim to none that they will conquer poverty.

these are some of the tales of strong.

if you don't cry after hearing these... you wait.

wait until you hear the primary class singing together about the bumble bees, the church choir praising the Lord for all their gifts of strength, for the pure excitement and honor the women show after telling them they and their children are beautiful.

this is when you cry.

there is so much to give.
so much to teach.
so much work to be done.
and yet... we too have so much to learn from these people who "have not".

first day of school

there are 280 students at cheti private school in the slums.

it was indescribable.

there are 2 schools that our director, zuma, owns as well that are off further in the mountains. the students there are mostly Masai and are the poorest of poor living in the mud huts with no beds and barely a roof.

school is 8-1130 with a break for children to walk home - app 30-40min to "eat lunch" and be back at the school by 2pm. although, school does serve porridge to the primary school students (1/2 cup of disgusting porridge).

the children's hygine - doesn't exist. the nursrery students only speak swahili- which makes helping them through their worksheets incredibly difficult. some classrooms have the kids teaching the classes as the rest chime along.

the kids are (of course) adorable. i've already fallen in love with countless number of them. when you walk in the classroom they say in unison, "goood morning teach-a" "how are you?" you say "good morning students, i'm fine - how are you?" adorable.

there are a few students with disabilities... one boy was left behind as his parents thought he had "nothing in his brain" and made his syblings attend school. it wasn't until zuma (school director) visited the house that he realized he was there. he covers his education ($100/year). the boy - baraka now speaks and is one of the fastest in the classroom.

it continues to amaze me how people who have nothing give everything.

at church...

the sun beats down on our backs and burns as we walk about 3 miles in the rocky cobble.

we walked with kaka (which means brother, but is actually one of our security guards), to his local church and the walk itself was unbelievable. At one point, kristina and i looked at each other and said - what we just saw is indescribable.

we were really in the slums. babies carrying mini-jerry cans filled with water, clothes hanging on clothes lines and ripping off the children who wore them. no shoes, or barely shoes. children playing in the mud as goats and dogs walk by. children picking up the trash off the grass and 1 room mud huts for 6 people.

and yet, despite the overwhelming poverty, some of the most beautiful people i have ever met.

the pride and happiness after all 15 of us (other volunteers) sat down on the bed where his 4 children (pray god, goodluck, joylove, and ester) sleep and the 1 couch. his wife was excited to share her family and home with us and walked alongside as we continued our journey through the slums to church.

along the way, like always, we collected the village children who latches on to your hand as if you were their saviour.

church was another amazing experience. we were welcomed with warmth into this christian church into a room full of men, women and tons of children wearing their sunday best. kaka's wife was in the dance group that congo-ed around the room embracing god and the community with love and hope. kaka ended up introducing us in front of the church... it was really amazing watching the congregation embrace all of our group.

for the first time on this trip - i felt god's presence. i met a little girl who barely smiled, the only one child that wasn't excited to meet a "white girl" - she quickly became my biggest fan. we kept playing with a flower that had appeared from somewhere, she would put it in my hair, i would put it in the rip of her shirt. she would hold my hand and i would put my arm around her. she finally smiled and hugged me goodbye.

as the songs played on - they ended towards sadness as the choir and members of the congregation began to cry. we left early as these services usually last for 4 hours.

Rock quarries and colored skirts

After the second day, going into town I have decided - arusha is an insane city. i have come to the conclusion that it is a china-towne on drugs and will be avoiding it like a plague. the outskirts are amazing and the people are something inspiring. from here -out we will be taking dalla dallas or cabs directly to where we need it... the city is just a lot :)

Last night - we were picked up by a dalla-dalla (all 15 of us in 1 van) and asked them to take is down the winy, rocky road back to our volunteer house. they then picked up two more and we were all squished on laps, barely breathing as we scraped the bottom of the van towards safety.

today, we stopped by our drivers house. slowly watched woman and children cleaning there clothes in the river and met family after family living in 1 room houses and carrying their Jerry cans back from the river. the children look at you with wonder and aspiration. just saying hello and waving puts a smile on their face. he was so honored we came to see his family, meet his son brooklyn and his wife.

the hardest thing to continually watch so - far is the rock quarries. during the week, hundreds of women (massai, etc) and children sit on large rocks with machete-style hammers and chop the rocks into smaller bits to sell. there is a huge rock quarry right by our volunteer house. it's heartbreaking to know, this is all they know...

the food which is prepared for us, is delish although veggies and rice with tomato sauce (i know, this is extremely similar to what i eat pretty much everyday) might get a bit old. breakfast consists of the specialty, fried dough, bananas, fresh pineapple and white toast.

i am amazed by the beauty of these people. the colors of their skirts match the colors of the wild life. the woman carry everything on their heads, from bananas, laundry, shopping bags, etc. i wish i could share these pictures with everyone, but have not had a chance, or really know how to upload them - but have already gone through an entire SIM card. Onto the next!

so far - my favorite culturally learning is swahili time. they start their days at 6 am (when the sun comes up) and that is essentially 12am, as it sets and rises at the same time everyday. so our 1pm is their 6 am. Therefore - if you ask someone to meet you at a certain time, you'll need to clarify american time or swahili time - otherwise you will be waiting for a WHILE. and you do, all the time... time is definitely not of the essence.

until next time...

Jambo Tanzania!

Safe in Arusha!

With only a slight delay in Nairobi, we landed a few hours late, but all in 1 piece to Mt Kilimanjaro Intl Airport and were quickly picked up by our organization.

After day 1, I've already met, (and fallen in love with) several children (orphans) who latch on to you as if they have not a care in the world. They love taking pictures and then seeing what they look like on the digital cameras. They apparently never got the message to not talk to strangers...

After taking a quick, freezing bucket shower, we rode a dalla dalla, (a little van you hail like a cab) into the city of Arusha - which is quite the culture shock. It felt like a walk through union square on a Saturday afternoon trying to not fall over the rocks while still taking a second to look at the people, the trades and the kids. But if you don't see them - they will come chasing after you -"hey white person, where's my money, where's my money?" A bit crazy... but we managed to find a quiet little area and had lunch with a few other volunteers and one of the organization leaders (from TN).

The organization is great as are the ~10 other girls we're staying with in the house... there's a driver, a cook and several cleaning ladies. The house we ended up staying in last night is new - and might i say, far better than any NYC apt. They are all extremely sweet and are patient with our lax attempts at Swahili.

So far - Tanzanians are beautiful people who are curious and excited to practice their english, meet foreigners and potentially get paid. :)

The country - from what we've seen, is just like you'd imagine. Chickens and goats roaming around, children and their mothers on the street... the landscape vibrant and breathtaking.

kwa herini

With the new year on my side, I'm excited to finally begin this adventure.

After raising *almost* 5 thousand dollars and recieving bags of school supplies - I feel well prepared for take off.

While I had hoped to learn a bit more swahili and somehow prepare lesson plans... I guess I'll have to rely on my b-sing ability a bit more than planned, (thanks to my day job, it should come relatively easily ;) ).

We arrive in Mt Kilimonjaro January 13th and will be taken straight to Mama Mary's house - our new abode for the month! We were just placed at Cheti - a school comprised 400 students and 4 separate schools. Ages 7-11.

Hopefully I will have access to the internet frequently and can continue to share stories and pictures. In the mean time, wish Kristina and I luck for the 24 hour flight.

Thanks again to all my friends and family for their support, as usual - wouldn't be here without you all!

tuaonan baagaye
-see you later