i cant believe it! ill be home in 2 weeks. its crazy. a part of me really is sooo sad to leave, but theres also a part of me thats really looking forward to going home and seeing so many of the other people who are so precious to me. my sister and i both have a bit of a countdown going on to when we'll see each other again!
ok, so, the one thing i REALLY miss the most about home (besides my sister, of course) is being a normal person who no one pays attention to. the "mzungu" thing is really getting sooo old. i cant take it any more!!! instead of getting used to all the attention and yells my presence seems to conjure, i hate it more and more each day. ive gotten to the point where i HATE to be anywhere other than home or school. i DREAD having to run errands because i DONT want to be the center of attention anymore. i hate it so much!! it doesnt bother me nearly as much if im with a tanzanian friend because then its easier for me to ignore the other people. but if im alone, its torturous. i cant wait to blend in with everyone else again.
thursday was my last actual day of teaching. now we're in final exams and this coming friday will be my last day with the students. :( im going one day early this week to buy many of them gifts like clothes, watches, jewelry...things like that. also, when i get home im going to be attempting to do some serious fund raising for the needs here. many of the students need to have their school fees paid for, and the cassie and i both want a new library to be built in benny's honor which will cost quite a lot of money. also, she and i are still wanting to find money to send the child, Father, to school away from his mother. so yeah, the number im looking to raise is quite high, and im going to need as much as possible.
its going to be really hard to leave a few of the people here, especially those at my house. my two buddies, i could say my closest "brothers" are iwe and lusekelo. iwe speaks better english than any of my peers, and he has become my confidante. i tell iwe everything...all the things that make me sad, happy, angry. everything. he hears all my complaints about school. poor iwe. he probably dreads seeing me these days! haha. and lusekelo is my buddy. what can i say? i love that kid so much. i definitely spend more time with him than anyone else and he speaks much better english than he seemed to at first (plus he has improved a lot). so between his english and my swahili we barely have any problems communicating. im going to be so sad to leave him. everyday he tells me he loves me so much and that hes going to miss me so much when i leave. he says the house will be so boring without me there, he then proceeds to imitate every single person there to show me that he will be lonely. haha. its def too hard to explain over the internet, but its hilarious. he has decided he wants to go back to school, so i also really want to help find funding for him because he is my FAVORITE.
at my house, my "family's" favorite words to describe me are "charming" and "funny." they always tell me they will miss me so much, and that does NOT help me feel less sad about leaving. albert (who is my favorite in a tie with lusekelo) asks me every single day when i will come back. and everyday i say i dont know. oooh, i really do hope i can make it back to visit soon, especially since bibi and babu are so old. by the way, bibi and babu have the best stories ever. ill have to share some of those later. for now, i need to get going. but ill see many of you in 2 weeks! i cant believe it. i know its going to FLY by!
Saturday, May 30, 2009
Saturday, May 23, 2009
Lamentations
Mmmm. its been quite an emotional week. lamenting, lamenting, a bit more lamenting. its been exhausting, especially on top of the massive amounts of work ive been doing for school. So, as i wrote before, benny died on monday. i was left all day with people who didnt speak english, so i didnt actually know EXACTLY what happened until that night when everyone came back home. benny has always had very bad asthma, and its something he's struggled with all of his life. if you were to see benny without a shirt on, you would see that his chest was quite compressed, it had not developed normally. on monday, the nurse from the hospital had gone where benny was staying to give him his medicine which was healing him from his fight against the malaria. because as far as the malaria was concerned, he really was getting MUCH better. but when the nurse arrived, benny was having a lot of trouble breathing. surely it was making it even more difficult because he was so weak and malnutritioned. the nurse suggested benny be taken to the hospital right away. benny died on the way to the hospital because he was unable to breathe.
tuesday, many, many people had come to our house for the traditional african gathering of grieving. all day as i sat and typed exams for school, i listened to this massive group of people singing songs of mourning, wailing, and crying out. needless to say, it was impossible to be there without crying, and by the end of the day i just could not stand it any more. i left to go visit my students at school because my need for escaping was necessary. once i got there, i let some of my students convince me to join them for prayer and worship. probably not the best idea if i wanted to escape grief and crying. now, because of all my struggles regarding my faith the last few years, almost everytime im in such a situation i become very emotional and cry. on this day, as the students sang their worship songs and shouted their prayers to God, lifting their hands in praise and in grief over benny's death, i cried and cried and cried. i cried for benny's death, i cried because of the confusion inside me regarding my faith, i cried because i could hear one of my favorite students wailing (she was very close to benny), i cried because i thought of my love for my students and my african family, i cried because i will soon leave them, i cried because at any time i could hear that any of them have met a sudden death as did benny. i cry so much here, its ridiculous. i dont know why, but ever since i came here ive been so much more emotional than ive been in a loong time. one of my students even asked me why i'm always crying. what can i say? i have no idea. the smallest of things move me to tears. needless to say, by the time i got back home tuesday night, i was completely drained and exhausted.
on wednesday, a few of the teachers (including me) and a large group of students skipped out on school and went to "pay our last respects" to benny. his body was being kept at the hospital until that day when a group (including bibi) would set off to transport his body to his father's house on the other side of the country. we all gathered together, with benny's coffin before us. there was alot more crying and singing. in the end, they opened the coffin, and the whole group of people formed a line to "view the body." several women screamed when they saw him, throwing themselves on the ground and wailing. it was heartbreaking. and the worst part was to see the students, every single one of them crying. every single boy who had spent the last 1-4 years living with benny, even the most hard-ass of boys, had tears streaming down their faces. i know that for them, benny was played the role of a father figure in their lives as he was their caretaker while they lived at school away from home. not only that, but for many of them, benny WAS the father they never had, or he had become the father who they had lost to sickness and disease. it was obvious that benny's death was the most difficult for those students who are now orphans. it was truly a devastating day.
my time here is quickly coming to an end. i only have 3 more weeks left, and only 2 more weeks left with the students. its going to be so hard to say goodbye to everyone here. some people i have developed VERY strong attachments to. i do miss things about home and am looking forward to many things there. but mostly superficial things. the one thing i miss the most is DEFINITELY my sister. im very used to being away from her, but i miss her sooo much. the other, unimportant things i miss and am looking forward to are a variety in foods; running water with which to take showers; my car which can take me where i want to go, when i want to go there, and in short time. basically, i miss stupid things, and i know when i leave here i will miss the people with unbearable intensity.
tuesday, many, many people had come to our house for the traditional african gathering of grieving. all day as i sat and typed exams for school, i listened to this massive group of people singing songs of mourning, wailing, and crying out. needless to say, it was impossible to be there without crying, and by the end of the day i just could not stand it any more. i left to go visit my students at school because my need for escaping was necessary. once i got there, i let some of my students convince me to join them for prayer and worship. probably not the best idea if i wanted to escape grief and crying. now, because of all my struggles regarding my faith the last few years, almost everytime im in such a situation i become very emotional and cry. on this day, as the students sang their worship songs and shouted their prayers to God, lifting their hands in praise and in grief over benny's death, i cried and cried and cried. i cried for benny's death, i cried because of the confusion inside me regarding my faith, i cried because i could hear one of my favorite students wailing (she was very close to benny), i cried because i thought of my love for my students and my african family, i cried because i will soon leave them, i cried because at any time i could hear that any of them have met a sudden death as did benny. i cry so much here, its ridiculous. i dont know why, but ever since i came here ive been so much more emotional than ive been in a loong time. one of my students even asked me why i'm always crying. what can i say? i have no idea. the smallest of things move me to tears. needless to say, by the time i got back home tuesday night, i was completely drained and exhausted.
on wednesday, a few of the teachers (including me) and a large group of students skipped out on school and went to "pay our last respects" to benny. his body was being kept at the hospital until that day when a group (including bibi) would set off to transport his body to his father's house on the other side of the country. we all gathered together, with benny's coffin before us. there was alot more crying and singing. in the end, they opened the coffin, and the whole group of people formed a line to "view the body." several women screamed when they saw him, throwing themselves on the ground and wailing. it was heartbreaking. and the worst part was to see the students, every single one of them crying. every single boy who had spent the last 1-4 years living with benny, even the most hard-ass of boys, had tears streaming down their faces. i know that for them, benny was played the role of a father figure in their lives as he was their caretaker while they lived at school away from home. not only that, but for many of them, benny WAS the father they never had, or he had become the father who they had lost to sickness and disease. it was obvious that benny's death was the most difficult for those students who are now orphans. it was truly a devastating day.
my time here is quickly coming to an end. i only have 3 more weeks left, and only 2 more weeks left with the students. its going to be so hard to say goodbye to everyone here. some people i have developed VERY strong attachments to. i do miss things about home and am looking forward to many things there. but mostly superficial things. the one thing i miss the most is DEFINITELY my sister. im very used to being away from her, but i miss her sooo much. the other, unimportant things i miss and am looking forward to are a variety in foods; running water with which to take showers; my car which can take me where i want to go, when i want to go there, and in short time. basically, i miss stupid things, and i know when i leave here i will miss the people with unbearable intensity.
Monday, May 18, 2009
One Man Defies the Odds, While Another Succumbs to Them
Yesterday we celebrated babu's 75th birthday. that's a pretty big deal considering the fact that the life expectancy for men in this country is 35. he has lived a LONG, full life in which he has experienced the greatest of joys and also the most difficult of sufferings. Regardless, he walks around with a smile on his face, and his generosity is undeniable. So we had a big party at the school and the children performed dances, plays, and songs for him. We ate a ridiculous amount of food. basically, we had a great time celebrating babu's life.
One dictionary defines hope as this: "to wish or look forward to what one anticipates or expects, a reason for confidence or expectation." we had hope that benny would make a full recovery. he was improving daily. the last several times i saw him at the hospital, benny was getting better and better. we had hope. we looked forward to, anticipated, EXPECTED his recovery. benny began to speak again. he laughed at our jokes, and made jokes of his own. he recognized everyone around him, and he claimed he must have a lot of friends because he always had so many visitors. he began to eat again, requesting foods that he had missed. the last day benny was in the hospital, he even began to feed himself. we continued to have hope. friday, benny was allowed to leave the hospital. he went to his sister's house where he would be taken care of. on saturday and sunday we received news that benny continued to improve. our hope was solid. today, one of the new teachers came to talk with iwe and i as we sat on a bench at school. (iwe has replaced benny as the patron during his sickness) "you both share in the sufferings of your sick friend," he said. "yes," i replied, "but the good news is that benny is much, much better and we should see him here soon." my hope had become certainty. two hours later, albert(our driver) had come to the school to bring babu for some "business." i went to sit in the car with albert as i always do when he's at the school and i dont have a class to teach. benny used to always sit with us, and i thought that normally benny would be there with us, sitting in the car, laughing about something stupid. i looked at albert, intending to share a reminiscence of benny. albert looked sad. "nini albert?" i said. ("what albert?"--albert doesnt speak english) he shook his head. "nini," i repeated. "benny," he replied. "mbaya or nzuri?" i asked ("good or bad"?) "benny...kapoot," he said. "benny died?" i asked. Unnecessary as it may be to define such a word, "dead" is defined as: " without life or no longer living." benny will no longer eat, he will no longer laugh, he will never again see his students, and they will never again see him. benny is without life. i began to cray. albert and i looked at each other, sharing our grief. "pole sana," we both said. ("I'm so sorry for the situation") i was meant to teach my class in 20 minutes. how could i? i realized that a couple of my students had somehow heard the news, and their sobs were creating many questions among the others. i gathered my class together, and between sobs i managed to say that uncle benny had died. some of the girls cried out, the boys laid their heads on their desks and covered their faces. several more students began to cry. i spent the next hour outside, sitting on a fallen tree, crying with a group of my students. today i had to think of that book called "the audacity of hope." this means that having hope is recklessly bold action on our part. it is to dare to have something which may possibly lead to disappointment, to devastation. we have hope so that we might not have despair, or fear. we hold on to this expectancy for what may come in the future, the expectancy that the BEST is to come, and we try to believe it with reckless abandon because the pain of the possible reality is far too great. sometimes, our hope proves to be fruitful. it proves to bring us joy, happiness, contentment, satisfaction. other times, our hope is crushed, leaving us in a wake of destruction, pain, suffering, loss.
In a country, in africa, tanzania, where the life expectancy of men is 35, babuhas managed to live until 75. benny has died at 35. one man defied the odds, while another succumbed to them.
One dictionary defines hope as this: "to wish or look forward to what one anticipates or expects, a reason for confidence or expectation." we had hope that benny would make a full recovery. he was improving daily. the last several times i saw him at the hospital, benny was getting better and better. we had hope. we looked forward to, anticipated, EXPECTED his recovery. benny began to speak again. he laughed at our jokes, and made jokes of his own. he recognized everyone around him, and he claimed he must have a lot of friends because he always had so many visitors. he began to eat again, requesting foods that he had missed. the last day benny was in the hospital, he even began to feed himself. we continued to have hope. friday, benny was allowed to leave the hospital. he went to his sister's house where he would be taken care of. on saturday and sunday we received news that benny continued to improve. our hope was solid. today, one of the new teachers came to talk with iwe and i as we sat on a bench at school. (iwe has replaced benny as the patron during his sickness) "you both share in the sufferings of your sick friend," he said. "yes," i replied, "but the good news is that benny is much, much better and we should see him here soon." my hope had become certainty. two hours later, albert(our driver) had come to the school to bring babu for some "business." i went to sit in the car with albert as i always do when he's at the school and i dont have a class to teach. benny used to always sit with us, and i thought that normally benny would be there with us, sitting in the car, laughing about something stupid. i looked at albert, intending to share a reminiscence of benny. albert looked sad. "nini albert?" i said. ("what albert?"--albert doesnt speak english) he shook his head. "nini," i repeated. "benny," he replied. "mbaya or nzuri?" i asked ("good or bad"?) "benny...kapoot," he said. "benny died?" i asked. Unnecessary as it may be to define such a word, "dead" is defined as: " without life or no longer living." benny will no longer eat, he will no longer laugh, he will never again see his students, and they will never again see him. benny is without life. i began to cray. albert and i looked at each other, sharing our grief. "pole sana," we both said. ("I'm so sorry for the situation") i was meant to teach my class in 20 minutes. how could i? i realized that a couple of my students had somehow heard the news, and their sobs were creating many questions among the others. i gathered my class together, and between sobs i managed to say that uncle benny had died. some of the girls cried out, the boys laid their heads on their desks and covered their faces. several more students began to cry. i spent the next hour outside, sitting on a fallen tree, crying with a group of my students. today i had to think of that book called "the audacity of hope." this means that having hope is recklessly bold action on our part. it is to dare to have something which may possibly lead to disappointment, to devastation. we have hope so that we might not have despair, or fear. we hold on to this expectancy for what may come in the future, the expectancy that the BEST is to come, and we try to believe it with reckless abandon because the pain of the possible reality is far too great. sometimes, our hope proves to be fruitful. it proves to bring us joy, happiness, contentment, satisfaction. other times, our hope is crushed, leaving us in a wake of destruction, pain, suffering, loss.
In a country, in africa, tanzania, where the life expectancy of men is 35, babuhas managed to live until 75. benny has died at 35. one man defied the odds, while another succumbed to them.
Tuesday, May 12, 2009
...........
i dont have any idea how to title this entry. no matter how much i think, nothing makes sense. last week, on tuesday, i ended up going to the hospital to get some medication because i was having this ridiculously weird and painful thing going on in my ear. turns out my canal was completely closed due to inflammation. they gave me 4 different medicines, one of which made me really sick for the remainder of the week. i forced myself to go to school (just for my class period) each day, but by the time i had walked home on thursday i thought i would die, so i skipped out on school friday. (the medicine made me incredibly weak). but anyway, that was probably the most insignificant thing about last week. what i would call the "significant" thing was much more...well...significant.
tuesday, the evening i had come back from the hospital, one of the boarding students came to tell us that benny had malaria. benny is the "patron" of the school. he is about 30 years old, and he lives with the almost 40 boys who are boarding studenets at fanaka. i spend hours at school with him everyday, and he comes over to our house every night. three people i know have had malaria in the time i've been here. the symptoms are much like the flu, only they can lead to much more serious things, including death. the three others simply had anti-malaria injections and were better within a few days. that night, we also took benny to get an anti-malaria injection, and no one was really worried about it. we came to find out the next morning that the malaria had "gone to benny's head," meaning it was very strong in his body and affecting him psychologically. he didnt know who the boys at school were, he didnt know where he was, and he didnt know who he was either. a group of people drove him to the hospital to be admitted in critical care. by that night, he was unconscious and remained that way for the whole next day. he woke up on friday, but was still unaware of what was going on around him. i didnt go to visit him until friday night since i had been sick and bibi wouldnt let me go to see him. my heart broke the second i walked into the hospital room. benny was sitting on his bed, held up by two other men. his eyes were crossed, and he was drooling. i fought my tears as hard as i could, and forced myself to cheerfully call his name the way i usually do when i see him. a smile came across his face. everyone in the room was very happy to see that because it was the first time he had smiled. bibi said, "oh my daughter, it is better that you are here to bring joy to benny." that really brought the tears forward. when they pointed to me and asked benny who i was, he slowly said "le--na." which was a huuuge step for him because he hadnt been talking or recognizing most of the people around him. the best way for me to describe his behavior and state of mind is to say that he was like a small, mentally retarded child. i saw him again on sunday. they were trying to feed him. but benny wouldnt swallow anything, and everything they put into his mouth just dripped down his chin. he would close his eyes and moan and grunt, and try to resist being fed. in less than a week he had lost SO much weight. that day he was wearing a pair of shorts that he often wore before, and they were sliding right off of him, they were huge on him. i couldnt help but think of the last time i had talked to benny, the day before he got sick. i had recently seen pictures of him in which he had been quite thin. i was teasing him about the gut he had grown. "its from ugali," he said (ugali is a very starchy food they eat ALOT of here). "noooo benny," i said "thats a beer belly. you're drinking too much beer. we have to work on losing that stomach." he laughed and hit me and we giggled like two little fools for the longest time. seeing benny so sick, so emaciated, made me cry to think of that last time we spent together. today they took him to have his brain scanned, so we'll see how that goes. it is possible that in time benny will return to normal, but it is also possible that his mind will forever be damaged. his situation has consumed my every thought and im hoping for the very best for him.
ooooh, what else. there are so many things i could mention. like people here pick their nose with no hindrance. doesnt matter where you are, or whats going on, people here will look you right in the eye and dig up their nose as though it were money they were trying to get out. some stupid invisible bugs must be in my bed because i constantly have these bites EVERYwhere when i wake up. and every night and morning im inspecting the bed sheets, or feeling small bites which are really just the outcome of paranoia. im starting to get really tired of eating the same thing everyday, and ive been daydreaming about ALL kinds of things i want to eat when i get home. some women here draw on thick eyebrows with super dark pencils and they just look ridiculous. everyday i wish to strangle the obnoxious group of men who "work" on the road i use to walk to school. if i hear "hey baby" or "give me money" one more time i'm going to punch someone in the face. the guys who work at the internet place i used have discovered my blog. solomon (one of the guys) even printed it all out to read while he rode the bus. he's sitting on the other side of the room right now, and will probably be reading this soon. im laughing. i bet he's reading this and laughing too.
im pretty sure that my dramatic, tearful episode really straightened out the students because most of them have been little angels in comparison to how they had been behaving before. today they were working in groups, and as i watched them, i teared up again, this time with bittersweet tears. i was so happy to see how well they working together, but at the same time i was overwhelmed with how much i love them and the thought of saying goodbye to them in only one month is heartbreaking. anyway, ive written so much and have probably bored you to death, so more to come in about a week i suppose. i miss you all. alot.
tuesday, the evening i had come back from the hospital, one of the boarding students came to tell us that benny had malaria. benny is the "patron" of the school. he is about 30 years old, and he lives with the almost 40 boys who are boarding studenets at fanaka. i spend hours at school with him everyday, and he comes over to our house every night. three people i know have had malaria in the time i've been here. the symptoms are much like the flu, only they can lead to much more serious things, including death. the three others simply had anti-malaria injections and were better within a few days. that night, we also took benny to get an anti-malaria injection, and no one was really worried about it. we came to find out the next morning that the malaria had "gone to benny's head," meaning it was very strong in his body and affecting him psychologically. he didnt know who the boys at school were, he didnt know where he was, and he didnt know who he was either. a group of people drove him to the hospital to be admitted in critical care. by that night, he was unconscious and remained that way for the whole next day. he woke up on friday, but was still unaware of what was going on around him. i didnt go to visit him until friday night since i had been sick and bibi wouldnt let me go to see him. my heart broke the second i walked into the hospital room. benny was sitting on his bed, held up by two other men. his eyes were crossed, and he was drooling. i fought my tears as hard as i could, and forced myself to cheerfully call his name the way i usually do when i see him. a smile came across his face. everyone in the room was very happy to see that because it was the first time he had smiled. bibi said, "oh my daughter, it is better that you are here to bring joy to benny." that really brought the tears forward. when they pointed to me and asked benny who i was, he slowly said "le--na." which was a huuuge step for him because he hadnt been talking or recognizing most of the people around him. the best way for me to describe his behavior and state of mind is to say that he was like a small, mentally retarded child. i saw him again on sunday. they were trying to feed him. but benny wouldnt swallow anything, and everything they put into his mouth just dripped down his chin. he would close his eyes and moan and grunt, and try to resist being fed. in less than a week he had lost SO much weight. that day he was wearing a pair of shorts that he often wore before, and they were sliding right off of him, they were huge on him. i couldnt help but think of the last time i had talked to benny, the day before he got sick. i had recently seen pictures of him in which he had been quite thin. i was teasing him about the gut he had grown. "its from ugali," he said (ugali is a very starchy food they eat ALOT of here). "noooo benny," i said "thats a beer belly. you're drinking too much beer. we have to work on losing that stomach." he laughed and hit me and we giggled like two little fools for the longest time. seeing benny so sick, so emaciated, made me cry to think of that last time we spent together. today they took him to have his brain scanned, so we'll see how that goes. it is possible that in time benny will return to normal, but it is also possible that his mind will forever be damaged. his situation has consumed my every thought and im hoping for the very best for him.
ooooh, what else. there are so many things i could mention. like people here pick their nose with no hindrance. doesnt matter where you are, or whats going on, people here will look you right in the eye and dig up their nose as though it were money they were trying to get out. some stupid invisible bugs must be in my bed because i constantly have these bites EVERYwhere when i wake up. and every night and morning im inspecting the bed sheets, or feeling small bites which are really just the outcome of paranoia. im starting to get really tired of eating the same thing everyday, and ive been daydreaming about ALL kinds of things i want to eat when i get home. some women here draw on thick eyebrows with super dark pencils and they just look ridiculous. everyday i wish to strangle the obnoxious group of men who "work" on the road i use to walk to school. if i hear "hey baby" or "give me money" one more time i'm going to punch someone in the face. the guys who work at the internet place i used have discovered my blog. solomon (one of the guys) even printed it all out to read while he rode the bus. he's sitting on the other side of the room right now, and will probably be reading this soon. im laughing. i bet he's reading this and laughing too.
im pretty sure that my dramatic, tearful episode really straightened out the students because most of them have been little angels in comparison to how they had been behaving before. today they were working in groups, and as i watched them, i teared up again, this time with bittersweet tears. i was so happy to see how well they working together, but at the same time i was overwhelmed with how much i love them and the thought of saying goodbye to them in only one month is heartbreaking. anyway, ive written so much and have probably bored you to death, so more to come in about a week i suppose. i miss you all. alot.
Monday, May 4, 2009
A Crazy Week
This past week was quite eventful. Beginning with an “incident” we had at school last week. I was going to teach my class, and as usual we were faced with our daily issues of their irresponsibility, noisiness, lack of respect, and tardiness to class. I was in the classroom wanting to start class, and ten minutes after the bell rang I still had students missing who were wandering around outside. I was yelling at them to run to class, and even pulling some of them into the class myself, and although this is VERY normal on any given day, I was particularly infuriated with the situation on that day. Once everyone was inside I had quite a few words to say to them, but I was still really upset. Bibi just happened to be at the school then, so I told them I was going to get her to talk to them because Bibi is quite a lecturer and you can be sure you’ll feel badly for misbehaving after a talk with Bibi. They were not too thrilled about that. She came in and began her lecture. I sat near the board facing the class as she talked. While she was talking, I was just thinking so much about my students and I started to cry. I thought about the futures so many of them will probably have…the boys will work on the wretched dalla-dalla buses or sell groundnuts on the side of the road. The girls will probably have babies in the next couple of years with men who will beat them, or leave them, or give them AIDS. It was just hurting me so much to think of what they’re doing to themselves and I truly love them, otherwise I wouldn’t worry so much. When Bibi left, I stood up before the class, pointed to my face, and said, “what am I doing right now?” A few of them quietly answered, “you’re crying.” “That’s right,” I said. “And why am I crying? Because I’m brokenhearted. Because it breaks my heart that I love you more than you love yourselves. Because it breaks my heart that I care about your futures more than you do. Because it breaks my heart to think where some of you will end up and the type of future you will have. Because many of you have no future. There is only pain and suffering ahead of you if you continue to be so careless about the things which are most important.” As I talked, I cried harder and harder and by the end of it, it was impossible to speak any more. I’m not sure how I said as much as I did. Many of the students were crying as well, and I had to leave the room for a few minutes to compose myself so that I could start teaching again. That was quite a dramatic afternoon, but many of them came to me later that day and apologized and I can honestly say that both of my classes have been MUCH better behaved since then.
This past weekend, I went to Zanzibar. Wow, it is GORGEOUS! Sadly I only had 3 days to spend there which is definitely not enough because there are so many different places to go and see. I went alone, so I was really hoping to meet someone to hang out with while I was there. After getting off the boat, I met a really sweet and beautiful English girl named Lucy. We decided to get a taxi together to the same hostel, and once we were there we decided to share a room together also. That evening we wandered around the narrow, maze-like streets of Stonetown, we booked a couple of small tours, had dinner, and had a couple of drinks at a really nice beachfront bar with live music. The next day we went on a spice tour where we were taking to a plantation and we smelled and tasted different spices and plants and fruits. It was really cool and one of the boys climbed up this ridiculously tall coconut tree. Then we went to the Magapwani caves where slaves had been hidden during the slave trade. Later that evening, my friend Joshua joined us in Zanzibar and the 3 of us, along with Joshua’s friend Charles went out to eat a really delicious restaurant. This family has a small restaurant in their home and they serve course after course of traditional Zanzibarian food. It was SOOO good. Then we went to another beachfront bar with live music. That was super entertaining. The next day we went to a small island off the coast of Zanzibar called Prison Island. It was where they had once intended to keep slaves as prisoners, but there had been a smallpox outbreak, so it became a quarantine island for the slaves instead. We saw HUGE tortoises that were up to 200 years old and about 450 pounds. We also went snorkeling. It was pouring rain for part of the time we were snorkeling, and that was actually really cool, it just made things a little harder to see under the water. Then, when it got sunny again, we headed to the beach for a little while, and finally headed back to Zanzibar so that I could catch my boat home.
Needless to say, the ride home was quite eventful. First of all, I got REALLY sick on the boat. The boat was WAY overbooked, and many of us were just sitting on the floor of the deck in the back. And it was anything but smooth sailing. There was a really nice Nigerian man sitting next to me who kept checking on me, he found me a bucket to throw up in, and he rubbed my back the whole time I vomited. I can honestly say it was not fun. I was SOOO happy to finally get to the port, and Albert was waiting there to pick me up. We set off for the drive back to our village of Bunju. Every time I’m riding in a car in this country, ESPECIALLY at night, I’m always wondering how it is that I never see anyone get hit by a car. I think it must happen so often because people are FOREVER darting out in front of super fast cars, and at night there are NO lights anywhere, and the car headlights are all quite dim. It’s undeniably dangerous. So like I said before, I’m always wondering how it is that I haven’t yet witnessed something horrible. Well, I definitely did on that night, and it was the last thing I would have ever wanted to happen. We were driving along the dark road, and this teenage boy darted in front of our car and Albert slammed into him. We hit him on my side of the car, and it was like every second was in agonizingly long slow motion and I will never forget the look of that boys face illuminated in the car headlight directly in front of me. It was a look of total fear and pain. The boy sat stunned and he seemed to be alright as everyone nearby rushed over to him. Albert drove up a little and pulled over to the side of the road. I assume he intended to check on the boy, but within one second, the people were angrily rushing towards our car and things did NOT look good. Albert slammed on the gas pedal and sped away as a huge mob of people ran after us beating the car and screaming at us. Someone even tried to throw a huge rock through the open window at Albert’s head, but it just barely missed him. I have never seen Albert so scared, and I have NEVER seen Albert drive so fast, weaving in and out of traffic. Of course, the driving made me sick again, and as though my fear and shock wasn’t enough, I was now leaning out the window puking the whole rest of the way home. By the time we got home, the whole outside of the car was covered in my vomit, it was all over my face, and the house boys had crowded all around me as I clumsily tried to wash the “residue” off of myself.
It was quite a week I would have to say, quite a week. After all, TIA, TIA (This Is Africa)
This past weekend, I went to Zanzibar. Wow, it is GORGEOUS! Sadly I only had 3 days to spend there which is definitely not enough because there are so many different places to go and see. I went alone, so I was really hoping to meet someone to hang out with while I was there. After getting off the boat, I met a really sweet and beautiful English girl named Lucy. We decided to get a taxi together to the same hostel, and once we were there we decided to share a room together also. That evening we wandered around the narrow, maze-like streets of Stonetown, we booked a couple of small tours, had dinner, and had a couple of drinks at a really nice beachfront bar with live music. The next day we went on a spice tour where we were taking to a plantation and we smelled and tasted different spices and plants and fruits. It was really cool and one of the boys climbed up this ridiculously tall coconut tree. Then we went to the Magapwani caves where slaves had been hidden during the slave trade. Later that evening, my friend Joshua joined us in Zanzibar and the 3 of us, along with Joshua’s friend Charles went out to eat a really delicious restaurant. This family has a small restaurant in their home and they serve course after course of traditional Zanzibarian food. It was SOOO good. Then we went to another beachfront bar with live music. That was super entertaining. The next day we went to a small island off the coast of Zanzibar called Prison Island. It was where they had once intended to keep slaves as prisoners, but there had been a smallpox outbreak, so it became a quarantine island for the slaves instead. We saw HUGE tortoises that were up to 200 years old and about 450 pounds. We also went snorkeling. It was pouring rain for part of the time we were snorkeling, and that was actually really cool, it just made things a little harder to see under the water. Then, when it got sunny again, we headed to the beach for a little while, and finally headed back to Zanzibar so that I could catch my boat home.
Needless to say, the ride home was quite eventful. First of all, I got REALLY sick on the boat. The boat was WAY overbooked, and many of us were just sitting on the floor of the deck in the back. And it was anything but smooth sailing. There was a really nice Nigerian man sitting next to me who kept checking on me, he found me a bucket to throw up in, and he rubbed my back the whole time I vomited. I can honestly say it was not fun. I was SOOO happy to finally get to the port, and Albert was waiting there to pick me up. We set off for the drive back to our village of Bunju. Every time I’m riding in a car in this country, ESPECIALLY at night, I’m always wondering how it is that I never see anyone get hit by a car. I think it must happen so often because people are FOREVER darting out in front of super fast cars, and at night there are NO lights anywhere, and the car headlights are all quite dim. It’s undeniably dangerous. So like I said before, I’m always wondering how it is that I haven’t yet witnessed something horrible. Well, I definitely did on that night, and it was the last thing I would have ever wanted to happen. We were driving along the dark road, and this teenage boy darted in front of our car and Albert slammed into him. We hit him on my side of the car, and it was like every second was in agonizingly long slow motion and I will never forget the look of that boys face illuminated in the car headlight directly in front of me. It was a look of total fear and pain. The boy sat stunned and he seemed to be alright as everyone nearby rushed over to him. Albert drove up a little and pulled over to the side of the road. I assume he intended to check on the boy, but within one second, the people were angrily rushing towards our car and things did NOT look good. Albert slammed on the gas pedal and sped away as a huge mob of people ran after us beating the car and screaming at us. Someone even tried to throw a huge rock through the open window at Albert’s head, but it just barely missed him. I have never seen Albert so scared, and I have NEVER seen Albert drive so fast, weaving in and out of traffic. Of course, the driving made me sick again, and as though my fear and shock wasn’t enough, I was now leaning out the window puking the whole rest of the way home. By the time we got home, the whole outside of the car was covered in my vomit, it was all over my face, and the house boys had crowded all around me as I clumsily tried to wash the “residue” off of myself.
It was quite a week I would have to say, quite a week. After all, TIA, TIA (This Is Africa)
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