Tate in Tanzania

My Contest Entry

2011-06-29T07:55:00.000+03:00

PLEASE READ MY FABLE CONTEST ENTRY, "THE WASTED-POINTLESS WAR" ON FIGMENT.COM!!!

As you may have guessed from the headline above, I've entered a writing contest on the site Figment.com, and am in desperate need of more hearts. Normally this isn't an issue, but this contest, people have been getting an insane number hearts. I don't know how, but I smell something fishy in the air. However, I'll be getting to that AFTER the contest. For now, please go to Figment.com, sign up for an account if you don't have one (its fast, free, and super easy), and read my story: http://figment.com/books/89601-The-Wasted-Pointless-War. You only have to heart it if you like it, but please DON'T FORGET TO DO SO IF YOU DO (this happens more often than you would think). Thank You!

Karibu! - Welcome!

2010-03-21T20:22:00.000+03:00

           Attention! Just a quick announcement to let everyone know that, as of 3/21/2010, Baba and I are still alive and kicking!

          Hi everyone! In a miracle of modern technology, straight from Africa to your computer screen, I bring you: Tate in Tanzania! Karibu Tanzania na Asante sana kwa kusoma blog! That's Swahili for "Welcome to Tanzania and thank you very much for reading my blog!" To help me learn Swahili, I'll use some of it in this blog. To help you understand what I'm saying, I'll be sure to post all the Swahili words I use here (though I was rather tempted to just leave you all hanging).
          Want to catch up on the latest? The best way to stay current is by clicking on the subscribe link above or below to get automatic updates about my blog. That way you'll be woken up in the wee hours of the morning every time I post something new! (Just kidding...) I rather like this method as well, as it allows me to see and keep track of how many people are reading my blog. You can also check out the post(s) below. Want to start at the beginning? Just click here! Or pick a topic from the Labels list on the sidebar. Whatever you do, come join me in Tanzania!

          Hidden Post Count: 1 (Can you find them all?)

          Not So Special Notice: I finally finished updating my blog. Sorry, just a bunch of day posts, no interesting side stuff, that will have to wait for later, right now I'm just too busy. In fact, I'm too busy to write why I've been so busy (though you might get the idea from reading my posts), which is why I'm doing this announcement here, rather than a post. As a compromise, I offer you this traditional African story, which I think you will like (I'll link it in with a real post later), and may even remind some of you of a...certain someone...

          Like my blog? Have your own website, blog, ect.? Add my headline animator to your site! Just click on the "grab this" link below this sample animator...

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Abunuwasi and the Cooking Pots

2010-03-21T20:10:00.007+03:00

          Over the year's I've been told many, many, many African stories by my baba. Some of them are fairy tails, while others happened to him (or so he claims). I've decided to post these stories here for you enjoyment during those times when I don't have much interesting to report of my travels.
          This is the story of Abunuwasi* an the Cooking Pots...
          Abunuwasi lived in a small village a long time ago in Tanzania. He was a very smart, and very lazy. A dangerous combination, as any of the villagers could warn you. I don't mean to say that Abunuwasi was a mean person. Far from it, Abunuwasi was always very kind and polite. He was just very good at getting what he wanted without working for it. Indeed, sometimes Abunuwasi could be most helpful. Usually this was when he was the most dangerous.
          Now Abunuwasi had three old small cooking pots. They weren't very big, and they weren't very good for cooking in. Abunuwasi needed new cooking pots. But Abunuwasi didn't want to go and buy them. So he thought, and thought, and thought of how he might turn his three old little pots into thee new big cooking pots. Finally he figured out a way.
          First, Abunuwasi went and asked one of his neighbors if he could borrow a cooking pot. At first the villager was suspicious.
          "How do I know that you will bring it back?" he asked.
          "I only need it for a few days," reassured Abunuwasi, "If I don't bring it back by the end of two weeks, I'll pay you for the pot."
          So Abunuwasi swore, and eventually the neighbor allowed him to borrow one old, chipped, pot. A few days later, Abunuwasi brought the pot back to his neighbor.
          “Here is your pot, just as I promised.”
          The villager was amazed, having not expected to see the pot again. He was even more amazed, when, on going inside, he discovered another little pot inside the larger one.
          "Abunuwasi!" the neighbor called, "Come back, come back! You have given me your little cooking pot!"
          Abunuwasi came back and looked inside the pot. Just as the villager said, a little cooking pot lay inside.
          Abunuwasi clapped his forehead "Oh yes, I forgot to tell you! While I had the pot I noticed that it started to look a little fat."
          "A little fat? How?"
          "Oh, you know, it grew thick in one side. That was when I began to suspect."
          "Suspect what?"
          "That the pot which you had given me was pregnant, of course."
          "Pregnant?!"
          "Yes, exactly. Sure enough, a few days before I brought it back to you, your big pot gave birth to this little pot," Abunuwasi held up the pot, "See, it has a little chip, just like its mother. Since the mother pot belonged to you, I didn't feel right keeping the child, so I gave the little pot back with the big one."
          The neighbor shook his head. He'd never heard of a pot giving birth before. But if Abunuwasi wants to give me a pot, let him give me a pot. It's certainly better than keeping mine, as I had expected, the villager thought to himself. A few days later Abunuwasi came back again and asked to borrow two cooking pots for just a month. The villager agreed, and gave Abunuwasi two pots of medium quality, wondering if any of them might be "pregnant". Sure enough, when Abunuwasi brought the pots back there was a little pot inside of each of them. Both just like their mothers.
          Again Abunuwasi returned after a few days. This time he asked if he might possibly borrow three pots for a month or two. Happily, the neighbor gave Abunuwasi his three best pots, knowing he'd find three little pots inside when Abunuwasi returned. A month passed, and then another, and then another, and still Abunuwasi didn't return with the three pots and their babies. Finally, after the third month, the neighbor went to Abunuwasi's to ask about the pots.
          "Abunuwasi, you asked to borrow three pots for two months. It has now been nearly four months , where are they?"
          At this Abunuwasi got very sad, "Oh, yes, I forgot to tell you. I don't know how to say this... I'm so sorry..."
          "Sorry for what? What did you do with my pots?"
          "I buried them, of course."
          "You what?!"
          "I buried them."
          "Abunuwasi, why did you bury my three best pots?"
          "Because the died, obviously."
          "How can a pot die?
          Abunuwasi looked in amazement at the villager, "Surely you know that anything that gives birth one day must die!"

E’ya! - Tate

Day 68: Nature's Song

2010-03-19T19:51:00.004+03:00

          I just want to thank all of you for your kind words and for subscribing to my blog! I now have 33 subscribers! And I want to give a big thank you to Anande, Aishi, Mother, Faraja (my cousin), and Sandee Baker (A total random stranger, how cool is that!!!) for following my blog through Google Friend Connect. If you want fame and recognition for following my blog, that is the only way. If you like my blog, show you support by subscribing! If you're wondering why then I haven't posted anything in ages, you'll have to read this post to find out...
          There are two reasons why this next update has taken my so long. First, we left Karibu Home and moved back in with Shangazi Eli-aremisa. This cut me off from a steady supply of power, meaning I couldn't use my laptop very much. Baba uses my laptop as well to write letters and such, so my blog time was all but eliminated. On the plus side, I got to spend a lot more time with my relatives.
          The other reason was that I was just too busy. The two-day spiritual assembly in Dar was coming up, and we needed to visit the rest of my relatives in Arusha before then. Then we went to Moshi, and from Moshi to Dar for the two-day. However, I did not forget about all of you, my poor and less favored readers, who must trudge through your daily monotonous grind. You, who's only ray of sunshine come from reading my blog. Which is why I took lots of notes and then spent the past three days working tirelessly on this blog.
          I don't have much to report about today...wait, I take that back! I went into town with Baba who was going to the University of Dar to meet again with his friend, Professor Jengo. While I was waiting in the car with Anandumi, I suddenly hear a voice calling to me from out the window. It was the voice of nature, and she was singing to me. Deciding to heed this call of nature, I went in search of a toilet.
          As a quick side note, you will never find a restroom in Tanzania. None, zip, zero. Go on, try and ask for one, no one will know what you are talking about. There are plenty of rooms with toilets for those who need to use them, but no rooms with beds for resting. So I went, as I said, in search of a toilet room, or as it is called in Kiswahili, a choo.
          I met Baba, who had also heard the song of nature and was answering it's call himself. Since he was my Baba, I of course had to let him go first, and went to Prof. Jengo's office to wait for him. When he came back, I went to go use the toilet myself, but he stopped me, saying that I would probably find it unusable. At first I thought it was because it was one of those ground level toilets you had to squat over, and was quite surprised. The real reason, it turned out, was a lack of toilet paper.
          That was when Prof. Jengo explained the situation. He, as it turned out, was in charge of the Men's toilet, making sure it was fully stocked with soap and toilet paper. No, he wasn't sitting down on his job (though he was sitting down when he explained this), the problem was the night watchmen. The job of night watchmen, of course, it to watch for thieves and make sure nothing gets stolen. Ah, but who watches the watchmen? And so, every morning, there is never any toilet paper or soap in the bathrooms.
          The same is true no matter where you go. Even in a five star hotel, if you go into their restrooms, four times out of five there will be no toilet paper. After all, a roll of toilet paper only costs 200/= (17 cents), so rich places like five star hotels can afford to replace whatever anyone takes, right? At least, that's the mentality of many Tanzanians. Jengo gave me his roll of toilet paper and a bottle of soap that he keeps in his office, and I returned them when I was done. If and when you do visit Tanzania, be sure to bring both with you and keep them on you at all times...
          I almost got all the posts finished today. I had them all written, I just needed a few details from Baba. As soon as that happened, people started showing up. First was Mabel (another of my cousins), her husband Mosha, her daughter Nema, who came over with Jake, an exchange student from Maryland, near Washington D.C. I taught him Double Blind and another one of my favorites (those who know it, know it) while the adults talked. As it turned out, Mabel had come because she had heard Baba was sick and she wanted to "heal" of his demons. This all happened while I was outside playing cards, and so I was blissfully unaware of the entire episode. I did remember hearing them "praying" rather loudly though...
          After they left, Mama Joann (Mama Faraja's younger sister, who married Kaanael, the older brother of Anandumi) along with her oldest daughter. Guess how old she is, just guess... 19!!! I have a niece who's within five years of me!!! But it gets better! You see, in Tanzania, as I was explaining before they don't use the terms aunt and uncle. Well they also don't use the terms niece and nephew. Instead they just call them son and daughter. Which means that I have a "daughter" that's ready to go to college! I'm still in college! I'm putting my foot down now, before all my nieces and nephews get any older. All nieces and nephews of mine must be younger than me, and all aunts and uncles must be older. No exceptions!
          So, what with all this family visiting, I never got to talk to Baba and finish the posts, which is why I didn't put them up today. But I will soon. Actually, I don't even know why I'm telling you this, since you won't read it till after the fact. Eh, whatever...

          Oh, and as one final note, all the P.S. I used to put at the ends of some posts will now appear in the comments section (that way it's a bit more interactive...).

E’ya! - Tate

Jump to: Day or Day XX

Day 67: Baba is Sick!

2010-03-18T19:48:00.001+03:00

          Baba's sick (again), we even had to take him to the hospital...
          You will remember that Baba went to the hospital on Sunday because he was coughing and not feeling good. If you don't remember this, you are probably suffering from a severe and life threatening case of amnesia, and should go to the hospital yourself. After the pharmacist gave him the right medication for his lungs, he had been feeling a lot better, and his voice had slowly returned. Only one thing remained, a pain in the small of his back, right under one shoulder blade.
          At first Baba thought he had merely pulled a muscle, and ignored it. The pain, however, grew worse, and by this evening he decided that he needed to go to the hospital. So Anandumi, his wife Mama Faraja (that's my other niece Faraja, not my cousin Faraja), and I took him to the hospital in Kigamboni. The hospital wasn't very large, but it was in good repair. The doctors were all very nice, and Baba liked it there.
          The night doctor on duty ran some tests and discovered that Baba had pneumonia. Pneumonia is a very dangerous disease, especially in Tanzania. It has killed both of my great-bibi's on my bibi's side as well as one of my great-shangazi's and one of Baba's younger brothers. My bibi doesn't even want to hear the word pneumonia, as it has taken to many people she has known.
          This is not the first time Baba has had pneumonia, he used to get it quite a lot before he switched to Flovent. Having been off Flovent for a few days and then moving from cool Arusha to wet and hot Dar proved to be all the bug needed to start growing once again. The doctor took strong action, prescribing Baba antibiotics that would have to be injected once every six hours. He gave Baba the first dose and told him to come back at midnight when he would wake up and give him the next injection.
          Since then, Baba has been doing better, though he still has a pain in the small of his back So yes, Baba is sick, but no, he hasn't died of pneumonia. I have been feeling fine, even in Dar, and haven't suffered from so much as a cold. We're both still alive.

E’ya! - Tate

Jump to: Day 65 or Day 68

Day 65: The Sunglasses

2010-03-16T19:46:00.001+03:00

          I forgot my sunglasses at Issac's house, and today Baba and I went back to visit Mama Estella. Naturally it never occurred to me to ask for my glasses back.
          Why are you still reading. That brief synopsis was the entire post. All this is just boring details about stuff you probably aren't interested in. And no, I'm not trying to dissuade you because something horrible and deeply embarrassing happened at Isaac's place. Seriously. Nothing happened at Isaac's. We went there, said hello to Mama Estella, and left.
          Fine, don't believe me... (though if you don't believe me, I have no idea why you're reading this pack of lies. Other than for entertainment, of course.)
          Anandumi had hurried home after hearing about Baba's trip to the hospital. Everyone was calling Baba telling him to take it easy and not talk. As soon as he finished one phone call, someone else would call, and he'd have to talk to them. Family. Can't do anything with, or without them. Baba had recovered some by now, and Anandumi suggested that we go visit Mama Estella. First, though, he took us to the barber shop to get our hair cut. Yes, we probably should have done this before the assembly, but hindsight is twenty/zero.
          From the barber shop we went across the ferry into Dar and all the way across Dar to Isaac's house. No one came to the gate, so we let our selves in. In the daylight I finally got a good look at the place. It has a really nice yard full of plants. Out back we found Etea, Mama Estella's sister, and she and Baba talked for a while. I wandered around looking at things, which is when I ran into Mama Estella. I quickly looked around. Baba had followed me, and he and Mama Estella talked for a bit. I even got a picture of them standing together.
          We left shortly after that, stopping on the way home to buy more cough medicine. It was then that I remembered I had forgotten to get my sunglasses. Oh well, I'll have to get them from Isaac some time.

E’ya! - Tate

Jump to: Days 63-64 or Day 67

Days 63-64: Time and Circumstance...

2010-03-14T19:44:00.001+03:00

          Time and unforeseen circumstance befall us all. A little bit of both befell me and my plans for fun after the second day of the assembly...
          This time I woke up at a reasonable hour, got ready, and just barely made it to the assembly before it started. At least we were on time. Once again the assembly was awesome. For all you who are attending, but haven't been to one yet, I won't spoil anything by telling you what new literature we got or anything like that. I'll just mention my favorite talk of the day, which was on singleness and how you can use it to the most advantage in serving Jehovah.
          Once again we had lunch with John Palankyo's sister. Baba hadn't been feeling good that morning, but as soon as the assembly started, he felt fine. Afterwords I met up with a group that was going out to eat. From there I would go to Isaac's house to spend the night, and hook up with Baba again the next day when he came into town. As I was leaving, Baba called me to say that he wasn't feeling good again, and was debating whether to go to the hospital or not. His voice had almost disappeared, making it hard to hear what he was saying.
          So I started seeing if I could make plans to go back to Kigamboni straight after dinner. Unfortunately, no one was going that way, and being across the ferry, it was out of most people. I finally got a ride up to the ferry, from which I would have to catch a taxi to Anandumi's. I had just finalized these plans when Baba called to say that he was just going to go home, and I should go to Isaac's. So I scratched plan B and went back to plan A.
          In the end Baba did end up going to the hospital in Kigamboni, where they gave him cough suppressant and antibiotics but it didn't help much. As it turned out, the generic of the generic of Flovent proved to be a little too generic and no good at treating Baba's condition. The next day Baba went to a duku la dawa, and the pharmacist there compared medications with him till they found one that had all the same ingredients as Flovent, plus an additional one to make it act faster. Now Baba is doing much better.
          This actually isn't the first time a pharmacist has helped Baba find the right medication for him. Back before Baba was on Flovent, the doctors were treating his lungs for asthma. The only thing was, while he had asthmatic attacks, this was because his lungs were weak, and not because he had asthma. So the pharmacist suggested that he try Flovent. The lesson: pharmacists usually know more about medications than doctors do because that's the only thing they study, all day long. It never hurts to double check your medication with a pharmacist to make sure it's the right one, and that there isn't another, better medicine out there for you.
          Okay, now time warp back to Sunday night. The group I was with went to the Mwezi Beach Club. None in the group had ever been there before (big mistake), but it looked really cool. It was located right on the beach, with the bar facing out onto the waves, and there was a small stage for dancing and entertainment. There was even a pool behind as well. The place looked great, and whole ambiance was very nice.
          The service, meanwhile sucked in exact proportion to how cool the place looked. The waiter skipped me three times, three quarters of the people there got their food late (the Brother who suggested we go there never got any food at all). I ordered chips, and then waited and waited for some tomato sauce (Tanzania has yet to get catch on to Ketchup). I asked several waiters, and even went up to the bar. A Sister finally had to go all the kitchen and swipe some. Let's just say Tanzanian's service industry still has some work to do...
          After dinner I got a ride to Embeze Beach where Isaac lives with his mama, my Shangazi. Unfortunately, Isaac hadn't known exactly what time I was arriving, as I hadn't know what time the people I was riding with were leaving. As a result he was out on an errand when I arrived. So the group dropped me off at the Rainbow Club, a "hotel" with better service than ambiance or entertainment for me to wait for Isaac. There was a live band that rotated through several singers, searching I think for some decent talent. One actually got a scattering applause for not being quite as bad as the others.
          Isaac finally came a rescued me, and we went to his place. It being already pretty late by then, we only watched one movie (Paul Blart: Mall Cop), before turning in. Rush hour traffic is terrible in Dar, if you don't leave before six in the morning, you aren't likely to get to work before nine or ten. Isaac was taking me with him into town to work, which meant that we'd have to get up super early. As serendipity would have it, Mama Estella, Isaac's mother, was out with friends, and hadn't gotten home by the time we went to sleep, so I never saw her that night.

          The next morning, Mama Estella was up. Isaac had told her that I was staying over, and she had gotten started cooking breakfast. "Want a nice shinny apple?"   "Oh no thank you, Tanzanian food is so tough, my teeth have become sensitive to anything hard. Isaac, I can't believe you're honestly letting your mother cook breakfast for you. What kind of a son are you? You should give her a break once in a while, you know." I dragged a bewildered Isaac into the Kitchen, and shoved Mama Estella out. "But I don't know how to cook!" "Then now is a perfect time for us to learn..."

          That never actually happened. Rather, it was part of a very strange dream I had that night. When I awoke the next morning, however, I new something was wrong. Seriously wrong. The days are always the same length in Tanzania, and the sun always traces the same path across the sky, making it possible to tell the time by the sun itself, no sundial needed. Which is why I could tell it was already past seven. Fearing I'd been left behind, I rushed to Isaac's room, but he was still there, fast asleep. Puzzled, I went back to sleep my self.
          I woke up late and got dressed (I'd brought a change of clothes with me). Then my belt broke, and my shorts promptly fell down. Fortuitously, I was still in the bedroom. Isaac offered me a pair of his pants, they were big as well, but I made them fit. Isaac's gym partner had bailed on him, which is why he had decided to sleep in today, rather than going into town early and working out, as was his normal routine. I wasn't complaining (as long as we left right away), the extra few hours of sleep had been nice.
          I ran into Mama Estella for the first time as we were going. I greeted her in Kiswahili, and she was very impressed with my command of the language. We left late enough that we missed most of the traffic. It was like driving on I-5 through the old Tacoma bottle neck. Only this was on a city road, and it was like that all the way to Isaac's work. Once there Isaac took a look at my laptop, which had been acting up, and then we went for brunch at a nearby house that had been converted into a "hotel" (restaurant). By the time we got back, Baba was waiting for me, and it was time to go back to Kigamboni.

E’ya! - Tate

Jump to: Day 62 or Day 65

Day 62: The Assembly

2010-03-13T19:42:00.002+03:00

          Today was the first day of our two-day spiritual assembly in Dar. Since there aren't many English speaking groups in Tanzania, all of them congregated together at Dar for the two-day. The assembly was being held in Mikocheni, a ways away from Kigamboni. My dear, sweet, cousin Upendo estimated that we would have to leave at five in the morning in order to get there on time...
          Which is why I got up before dawn to take a shower and get ready. It was then that Baba told me that it wouldn't take nearly that long, and that I could go back to bed and get a few hours more sleep. There must be a way to thank people like my cousin Upendo, I shall devote some serious thought to the matter...
          I woke up again at half past seven, got dressed, had breakfast, and was still ready to go way ahead of time. Unfortunately our ride, Fred, was not here yet. So we waited. Finally Mama Faraja, fearing we would be late paid a taxi to take to the ferry so that we could cross and wait for Fred on the other side. That was when Baba's phone died. The power had been out, so there had been no opportunity to charge it. I had thought, on coming to Dar that here, at least, the power would be more regular than out in the country. Boy was I wrong! If anything, the blackouts here are worse, as they often last longer.
          Fred finally showed up and took us to the Assembly (we only had marginal trouble finding the place). We were still early, amazingly. Actually, when I consider that we're usually late everywhere, arriving half an hour early despite all that happened was nothing short of a miracle. It also meant that we were able to get good seats (on the aisle in the back so Baba could get up whenever he needed without disturbing to many people).
          The assembly was awesome, I epically loved the talk about the qualities of a spiritual man. After about the third talk I got the great idea to take pictures of all the Brothers who gave talks, so you'll probably get to see those too, some day... I must apologize, as I did not get a picture of the one baptismal candidate standing up during the Baptismal talk. I was unexpectedly delayed in the bathroom by a lack of toilet paper (why is it that you never notice these things till it's too late?). I probably should have known better, as the toilet was lacking a plunger, but I had been in too much of a hurry to notice when I entered. I did, however, get a video of the water baptism. There was only one, a Sister, and I'm pretty sure I won't post that till I get back to the US, as the upload rates will just be too slow. We hadn't brought a lunch, but this proved to be no difficulty. Baba ran into the younger sister of John Palankyo. Baba had been the one who had preached to John long ago before Baba left for America, and had seen him get baptized. She was only to pleased to have us for lunch, and invited us to come visit sometime while we were in Dar.
          After the assembly we meet John Palankyo at a "hotel" and visited for a little while before heading home. There we were meet by a surprise visitor. Ebenezer 's daughter, my niece, came over to see us. I have a niece, as well as a nephew! Even more scary is the fact that she's like 15, less than ten years younger than me! She didn't talk much to me, but she did teach me a new greeting. It involves a hand over the eye closest to the person you are greeting and turning your head away slightly. I'm not sure if I mastered it quite right, but I think I got the basics. I'll show it to you all when I come home.

E’ya! - Tate

Jump to: Day 61 or Days 63-64

Day 61: Hot n' Cold

2010-03-12T19:36:00.001+03:00

          Dar is a hot city. It's like southern California, only a lot more humid. But today, for a few hours, I was actually cold in Dar.
          The first stop for today was to the University of Dar-es-Salaam to visit yet another old friend of Baba's, Professor Elias Jengo. Prof. Jengo is the Dean of the school of the Fine Arts. Baba was considering applying for a job at the University, and he wanted to talk to Jengo about it. Anandumi dropped us off, then took off for Dodoma, unable to delay any longer. There was AC in Jengo's office, so it was pretty comfortable, but I wasn't cold.
          After meeting with Prof. Jengo, my cousins Goodluck and Ebenezer came to meet us and take us out to lunch. We hopped on a Daladala (the daladala's in Dar are much different from the ones in the country) and Goodluck took us to a "hotel" along the highway where we had lunch. It was an open air "hotel", so I wasn't cold there either. Isaac, Mjomba Mike's son lived in Dar, and I decided to give him a call. He was at work, he does IT for Family Heath International, and invited me over. So Goodluck called his friend Fred, who owned a car, and he came over and drove us to Isaacs work (there's no AC in Fred's car, so I definitely wasn't cold there).
          I was greeted as I entered the office complex where Isaac worked by a blast of cool air. After riding around in Fred's car and then wandering around outside trying to find the entrance, this was a welcome relief from the heat. I hung out in Isaac's office, which looks like a small computer scrap yard till my Baba came back that evening with Fred to pick me up.

E’ya! - Tate

Jump to: Day 60 or Day 62

Day 60: The Perscription

2010-03-11T19:34:00.001+03:00

          In Tanzania a pharmacy is called a "duku la dawa" (or "store of medicine"). There are duku la dawas everywhere along the country side, they're almost as common as hair salons and mini-marts (you can find "mini-mats" selling anything from fruit to basic necessities every thirty meters in Tanzania). They are equally plentiful in Dar, as we found out today...
          Anandumi was supposed to leave early today for Dodoma to attend a conference. He delayed his trip, however, to be able to spend one day taking us around Dar. First we visited MOI, Muhuru Orthopedic Institute, the largest medical facility in Tanzania, to visit Dr. Kisali Palankyo, the dean there and an old friend of Baba. Baba does not like the heat, and it tends to aggravate his pulmonary problems. Furthermore, he had run out of one of his medications, Flovent, a while back.
          Dr. Kisali looked at his medications and announced that the only one that really treated his condition was the Flovent. The others merely helped it to act more quickly and thoroughly. Which probably went a long ways towards explaining why Baba had been getting slowly worse and worse. Thing hadn't really gotten bad, though, until Baba left cool Arusha for hot and sweaty Dar. Dr. Kisali wrote Baba a prescription for a generic version of Flovent that we could by at a duku la dawa.
          From there we went to the school in Dar where Baba had taught Art and Theater. The old stage where Baba would put on his plays was still there. More surprisingly, we ran into one of his old students who was now a teacher there and preparing for retirement. Baba took me around and showed me all the places of interest, the classroom where his pants ripped open, the room that used to be his office, etc.
          After that we proceeded to drive all over Dar looking for a duku la dawa that sold the medication that Baba needed. No one had the first medication, but they all had the "second" one. Which "second" medication? Well the prescription that Kisali wrote out had two lines. The first was the name of the medicine. The second one read: "Limit one only". I tell you, the names drug companies come up with these days are just plain crazy! Next I suppose they'll have a drug called "Five times daily", or maybe "50 Tablets"...
          We finally had to call Kisali up, and he found a generic of the generic drug, which we bought. I tell you, if drugs get any more generic, we'll soon have cure for all ills or, more likely, a medication that works via the placebo effect.

E’ya! - Tate

Jump to: Day 59 or Day 61

Day 59: The Bus to Dar

2010-03-10T19:33:00.001+03:00

          Remember how I said that things always take longer in Tanzania, and that transportation is highly unreliable, especially if you need to get from point A to point B quickly? Well guess what this post is about?!
          So today we were supposed to leave Moshi for Morogoro to visit my Mjomba Ndelilio, and then from there go to Dar for a two day religious assembly. Supposed to. Mjomba Terevaeli had gone with Baba last night to buy the tickets. However, there were only two buses to Morogoro, one left at 7:30, and still had room, and the other was full. Which meant that we would have to take a bus to Dar and get off at Chalinze.
          Baba called Ndelilio to make sure this would be alright, and this turned out to be a very good thing. As it turned out, Ndelilio was not in Morogoro, he was in central Tanzania in the capital of Dodoma on business. Good thing Baba acted like a Mzungu and called him first! Mjomba Terevaeli swore up and down that it had to have been the hand of God who directed affairs just right so that we didn't waste our time going to Morogoro.
          So instead we booked a ten am express bus for Dar. I had made sure that Terevaeli got us tickets on the last bus out of Moshi, as I wanted to make sure we had plenty of time to get to the bus station, so as to not be late. Little did I know...
          We got up, packed, showered, ate breakfast, and got to the bus station just before ten, barely on time. I wish the same could have been said for the bus. Twenty minutes later it still wasn't there. Mjomba Terevaeli went to ask what was going on. The travel agents explained that the bus had been delayed, but that it would be here any moment. And, as we both know, "Any moment now" is actually a Kiswahili phrase for, "Any time between now and the end of next the week".
          So we waited for an hour. No bus. Waited another hour. No bus. Ate lunch, waited another hour. No bus. It's really hot in Moshi (almost like Dar, but not quite), and I finally went to order a milkshake. Before I could even finish ordering, the bus came, 3 1/2 hours late, and we had to hurry on board. At least there was AC...
          I took lots of pictures of the trip on the way down. I didn't get the whole thing, as the sun set before we got to Dar because we left so late. But I might post some of the pictures I did get later. We got to Dar at around ten. Anandumi, my cousin, was waiting to pick us up, along with my other cousin Ebenezer. We were staying at Anandumi's place in Kigamboni, which is actually across the bay from Dar central on a peninsula. I was a little worried that the ferries wouldn't be running that late, but as it turns out they run 24/7. Good thing, as otherwise, I don't know where we would have slept...

E’ya! - Tate

Jump to: Day 58 or Day 60

Day 58: Mtumba

2010-03-09T19:31:00.001+03:00

          Think that all the stores have to sell in Tanzania is Kangas and Kitenges? Think again! You can buy all the latest fashions in designer jeans and the like. Second hand, of course.
          Where, you ask? At Mtumba, Moshi's international goodwill flea market. I got to visit it today with Baba and Mjomba Terevaeli. I spend the morning lazing about (and working on this blog) while Baba talked to some friends that had come over to see us. By the time we got to Mtumba, it was late in the afternoon, and shops were beginning to close up. Now, and early in the morning when everything's still opening up is the best time to come and buy.
          In the morning, shop owners are uncertain as to how the day will pay out, and are willing to settle for some quick cash so as to make sure they have some profit to show. Once they get a little money under their belts, the merchants settle down for some hard bargaining, going for the big money. At the end of the day, however, things swing back in favor of the customer, as the merchants are eager to make some last few sales before closing up shop.
          Mtumba is a giant grid of wooden slat stalls. There's no real pattern to the layout, other than the "hotels" (restaurants) in the middle, you can find anything anywhere. There are entire stalls that sell just shoes, or towels and napkins, backpacks, suitcases, designer shirts and jeans, and even underwear. Upendo (Peter's mother's helper, not my cousin) was wearing a nice pair of designer jeans that likely came from a market like this one.
          How do the merchants of Mtumba get their wares? Most of it is donated by first world countries through various organizations. Shoes from Italy, backpacks from Sweden, stuff comes in from all over. After wandering around for a good while (I didn't buy anything, but both Baba and Mjomba Terevaeli did), we went to the Salzburger Café (owned by Terevaeli) for dinner. Afterward I plugged in my laptop to work on this blog while Baba and Terevaeli chatted. It was then that I was reminded of the 7:30 blackout, which hit right on schedule, as it does almost habitually. Fortunately, my laptop also has a battery, so I didn't really have to worry till nine, when my power started to get low. Once again, Thank you Grandma for this Laptop!!!

E’ya! - Tate

Jump to: Days 55-57 or Day 59

Days 55-57: The Cheese Cake Conundrum (My Second Adventure)

2010-03-06T19:28:00.002+03:00

          As you all know, one of the things I miss most since I've come to Tanzania is Root Beer. It is the best drink on the face of this planet, and I could probably go on for several paragraphs about it (in fact, I have). That is my favorite drink. One of my favorite deserts (there's just too many options out there to narrow it down to one) is cheese cake. I'm glad to say that they do have cheese cake in Tanzania. I, however, have yet to have any...
          The day dawned bright and early, like every day in Tanzania. My plans were simple: go preaching door-to-door till noon, then get some cheese cake. And like all well laid plans of mice an men, it was doomed to failure before the day began. As you may remember I had been helping my cousin Faraja learn how to use a computer so that she could apply for colleges in the US. Obviously as single computer lesson would not be sufficient, and I had promised to go again with her to the internet café. And since Baba wanted to leave for Moshi on Sunday and then from there to Morogoro the next day to visit my Mjomba Ndelilio. Which meant that I had to help Faraja today.
          No biggie, right? Plenty of time to go preaching, eat cheese cake, and still get to spend a few hours at the café. And if this were America, you would be right. However, as you may have noticed, things always take longer in Tanzania. Transportation is highly unreliable, especially if you need to get from point A to point B quickly. So Baba vetoed my schedule, deciding that I would just take Faraja to the café in the morning and spend most of the day there with her.
          Okay, so not as much fun, but at least I would be productive, right? Ha! Guess again. You see Jovin, Faraja's son and my lil' nephew was sick again, and Faraja wanted to take him to the hospital. Alrighty then, we go to the hospital first, then the café. Faraja just needed a little time to dash home and get Jovin ready. I'm sure you can see where this is leading too...
          Three hours later (a little after noon when I would have finished service) Faraja is finally ready to go. So we go to the hospital, where I sit around for two hours (not eating cheese cake) while we waited for the test results to come back. Firstly I should probably mention something about naming conventions in Tanzania. Tanzanian's like to be impressive. So you will never eat at a restaurant while in Tanzania. You will always eat at a Hotel. Said hotel may or may not have rooms for the night, but so long as it has food, it's a hotel. Similarly, anywhere a doctor works is automatically called a hospital, even it if's just a small clinic like the one we were at.
          There was a map of the world in the "hospital", and I was rather pleased to note that it had Seattle labeled on it. I measured the distance from my home in the US to here and found the distance to be surprisingly shorter than I had expected. Did you know it is only one hand length (thumb to pointer finger) from Arusha to the Pacific North West? And here I had mistakenly thought it was like thousands of miles away. I think I'll just walk home, according to the map, the Atlantic should be jump-able, easily. The test results finally came in, showing that Jovin had malaria (again), and they gave him some medicine for it. From there Faraja and Jovin went to the internet café. Only I didn't go with them.
          Why? Because Baba had remembered a friend of his in Usa river that he desperately wanted to get in contact with. So I rode with him and Ino to Usa to meet his friend, who, unfortunately, wasn't there. No problem though. This is Tanzania. No one calls ahead to make appointments with people so they'll know they're there. Only Wazungu do that sort of thing. Leaving Baba's cell phone number, we drove back the 18 some kilometers (12 miles) to Tengeru, where I met Faraja at the café and helped her look for more colleges.
          So that pretty much shot any plans of having cheese cake, right? Ha! I am an Urio, of the great Athanasio, and we Urios do not give up that easily!
          The next day was Sunday, the day we were supposed to be leaving for Moshi. However, last Saturday, while we had been running all around, Shangazi Eli-aremisa had gotten out the washing machine and dryer 9a rare treat, they have to use a gas generator to power the machine, so they rarely use it) to wash all our clothes and have them ready when we left. Fortunately, I mean, unfortunately, very, very unfortunately, the dryer refused to work, so all our clothes were still wet. Which meant that, after meeting (worship) I go preaching and then get cheese cake, like I had planned to on Saturday.
          At the meeting I finalized my plans. I would be going out with Mjomba John Nanyaro and my cousin Upendo, and then get cheese cake. Now another Brother at the meeting needed Upendo to translate something for him into Kiswahili. So, after loading all our stuff into Mjomba John's car, we walked with the brother the short distance to his house to get the file. From there it was a quick jog out to the road to wait for John to pick us up.
          I want you to take a wild guess now at what happened next. No, we were not kidnapped by aliens. John never showed up. We waited. And we waited. And we waited. Finally we walked back to the hall. Sure enough, no one was there. Dear, sweet, Mjomba John had gone out preaching and totally forgot about his daughter and nephew. Furthermore, all our money, and Upendo's phone, was in his car. Which meant that we would have to walk the six kilometers to Mjomba John's place and wait for him there.
          We passed the cheese cake store on the way.

          Cheese cake, cheese cake, everywhere, and all our tongues did shrink.
          Cheese cake, cheese cake, everywhere, and not a bite to eat.

          By the time Mjomba John finally got home, it was time for me to go home. But was I beaten? No! For we weren't leaving Arusha till the afternoon the next day. Plenty of time for me to get my cheese cake! In the mean time, I went with Baba to Usa river to visit Dr. Samuel, the brother of Mjomba Wilfred, Shangazi Eli-aremisa's husband. He has three children, a son, Amusi (which means "Peace"), who's about my age, and two preteen daughters. The road to his place was actually blocked by rubble, and we had to get in through the church he lives next door to.   Tanzania is a really, really interesting place. You should definitely see it some time.
          The next morning dawned bright and early, like all mornings in Tanzania. I made plans to meet with my cousin Upendo in Arusha, go get cheese cake, and then go to the New Arusha Hotel, where I had some left over internet time. Baba, mean while, wanted to go visit his friend in Usa river, as he was home that day. I suggested that I first get dropped off in Arusha, and then Baba could go in the opposite direction to Usa river. Baba mean while, didn't want to go to Arusha, then go to Usa, and then come all the way back to Arusha to get on the bus. He wanted me to go with him.
          Now, just in case any of you have forgotten, this is the self same man who refused to let me go out in service on Saturday and then go get cheese cake, why? Because things always take longer in Tanzania. Transportation is highly unreliable, especially if you need to get from point A to point B quickly. I argued to no avail, and in the end Baba went to Usa while I stayed at Shangazi Eli-aremisa's to wait for him. Five hours later he finally came back, just in time for us to rush to the bus station and catch our express bus to Moshi.
          I still have not gotten to eat any cheese cake.

E’ya! - Tate

Jump to: Day 54 or Day 58

Day 54: Hospitals

2010-03-05T19:33:00.001+03:00

          Today I got to see the difference between private and government hospitals in Tanzania. The differences were quite stark.
          Today we visited an old friend of Baba's, Christopher Nasari. He came to America once to visit Baba along with two other clergymen. He became sick recently and was hospitalized for low blood sugar. He had been taken to the hospital in Arusha. It is on a very large campus with small scattered buildings connected by open breezeways. All the buildings have run down look to them, space is scares, and supplies limited. After arguing for quite a while with a guard we finally got to go to the room where Christopher was staying. Unfortunately, he wasn't there.
          At a loss, we went to Shangazi Ika's place so Baba could use their computer. While there we got a call that Christopher was at a private hospital in Arusha. It turns out the government hospital had sent him home, so he had moved to the private hospital for better treatment. So we drove there. The hospital was a single large building, nice, neat, and modern. In just about every way, it was the opposite of the government hospital we had gone to see before.
          Christopher was doing okay, he had diabetes, and they had put him on insulin. As soon as we got there a whole bunch of other people began showing up to visit him, and us, and the room was soon packed. I must say, word sure does get around fast, no matter where you are! From the hospital we went straight to the Theocratic and Service meeting at the English congregation of Jehovah's Witnesses there in Arusha. Then it was back to Ika's to pick up some things we had left behind before going back home.

E’ya! - Tate

Jump to: Day 53 or Days 55-57

Day 53: The Other (Grand)Father, The Sequel

2010-03-04T19:31:00.001+03:00

          Today we went back to see babu David and get the stories from him that Baba had missed last time.
          Tanzania is a very interesting place. One of the interesting things about it is the way people value money. Everyone, of course, wants more of it, and will do what ever it takes to get it from others. But it's not a simple as that. Probably the best way to explain what I mean is with the following experience. Shepard Isankiya came by to pick us up and take us back to babu David's. Along the way he stopped for gas. When we went to pay for the gas, we discovered that we had left all our money back at Shangazi Eli-aremisa's. The bill was for 64,000/= Tish.
          So we were trapped right? I mean, there's no way the gas attendant was just going to let us drive off with a bill that size, right? Actually, he did. Isankiya promised, of course, to come back latter that evening and settle accounts. He didn't even have to leave his id or some other asset behind as insurance. So just what does money mean to Tanzanians? I'll let you know when I find out.
          From the gas station we drove to Usa River to go to the bank. That was when we discovered that we'd also left our bank cards at Eli-aremisa's as well. So no money. Since we were already over half way to babu David's we decided to just go to his place and worry about the money afterwords. Along the way we stopped for the obligatory tea and sugar, and Isankiya covered the bill for us.
          Babu David was very happy to see us, and he talked to Baba for a long time, telling him all kinds of stories while Baba took notes. The highlight was the story of David and the Lion, which Baba translated for me. Babu David has an extraordinarily keen mind and an excellent sense of time. Though possessing no watch, he knew exactly how long he had been talking, and when we needed to leave to get back at a reasonable time. I speak from personal experience when I say that this is an invaluable asset to anyone who posses this talent. No one in our family does, save my sister Anande. We are also rarely ever on time.
          Leaving Babu Davids, we drove back home to Shangzi Eli-aremisa's, where I ran in and grabbed the money for Isankiya. A word of advice: when traveling, always keep plenty of money with you, but not all in the same place.

E’ya! - Tate

Jump to: Day 52 or Day 54

Day 52: In The Garden of Eden...

2010-03-03T19:27:00.002+03:00

          In the hills of Meru there is one place Baba has always loved the most. He calls it the "Garden of Eden," for its many fruit trees, fair weather, and beautiful scenery. Today we finally went to back to Eden. But not all was well in paradise...
          Many times Baba had told me stories of the Garden of Eden, a piece of land in Meru. At last I would get to see it for myself. Shepard Isankiya came back to pick Baba and I up again and take us there. We got as far as John Palankyo's old house (he was a good friend and old bible student of Baba's) before Baba's memory ran out, and we had to ask for directions. A group of three really nice young men (who were also looking for a little money) happily agreed to show us the way.
          Baba had describe this place to me often. The property had once belonged to my babu, and was so full of trees, you couldn't see the noon day sun. And every single one of those trees was a fruit tree. Not just one type or variety, either, but many, many, many kinds, the likes of which have never been seen in America. One type of fruit Baba wanted to show me was called Tope-tope. It's slightly smaller than a football. Inside the white flesh is soft and tastes like strawberry-vanilla-banana ice cream. Honestly, folks, Americans are getting ripped off by our food industry. The bananas you commonly buy in the supermarket over here are called Malali. Tell anyone you eat Malali and they will either laugh their heads off or stare at you incredulous. The only thing Malai are used for over here is cow fodder. No one eats Malali, not when there are so many other, better varieties of bananas around. And that's just bananas. Not only are we being sold inferior quality fruits, but there are so many other kinds of awesome fruits out there that we don't even know about. The saddest part of it all is that these other fruits are becoming extinct as people are chopping them down to make room to grow stupid American fruits.
          At long last, we arrived at the property, and I got to see the Garden of Eden for myself. There wasn't much left to see. No more fruit trees, they had all been replaced with...corn. A lot of the land had been sold, and what was left of the property was being managed by Moses Siyalo Urio (who's babu was the brother of my babu). They had one rundown house, a few fruit trees, and a corn field. We hiked up a hill behind the house in hopes of a nice view down the hillside to the valley below. Unfortunately, there were to many trees blocking the view for much to be seen in that direction. We could look behind us however at what was left of Baba's Garden of Eden. Which was not much really. Baba lamented how changed everything was, "The older generation has left nothing for the younger!".

          After the rather disappointing trip to the garden of Eden, we moved on to visit the rest of my relatives in the area and go to the top of LaMiika, the second highest hill in Meru (a view that would most likely not disappoint). This time Moses and Erick accompanied us as our guide. First we drove a long ways up the hills of Meru to Peter's Mama's (my Shangazi) house. She lives in a tiny house on a large property with fields of grass, a few cows, and a small banana plantation. We had got as far as her driveway before realizing that we had forgot to get some tea leaves and sugar. So we waited while Erick ran back down the road to a store to get some.
          Peter's Mama was very glad to see us. She lives all alone with one girl named Upendo to help her. Peter left for America in Kansas City, Kansas where his working as a finish carpenter. Peter's Mama and my Baba talked for a while and then she led us on a quick tour of the property before we said our goodbyes. From there we went to say a quick hi to Moses's sister, Eli-amulika Jackson, who lived just a couple seconds away. Upendo, along with a few other kids from the area tagged along with us and waited in the back of Isankiya's pickup. After Moses's sister, we visited Peter's wife, who also lived in that same area. Word must have gotten out that we were in the area, as she had cold sodas waiting for us.
          After visiting Peter's wife, the only stop left was the top of LaMiika. We drove past a school along the way, and more kids joined our expedition. By the time we got to the top of LaMiika, there were about eight kids follow us (okay, following me) around. At the top of LaMiika was a small farm that grew corn (of course). The sides of the hill were steep and didn't have many trees, giving me a good view of the rest of Meru and the valley beyond. I could see the towns of Usa River, Michoni, Tengeru, and even Arusha. I could also see my Cousin Amos's house.
          After taking lots of pictures it was finally time to head home. We drove back down the hill, knocking kids off the back one by one till it was just Baba, Isankiya, and me. We made a brief stop off at Amos's house, and he gave me the Great Rod Of Power. Its this short rod that is held by the head of the family as the symbol of his office. Now I could order people to do whatever I wanted! I haven't used it yet, as I'm still trying to decide what I want first...

E’ya! - Tate

Jump to: Day 47 or Day 53

The Safari Hunting Game

2010-02-28T18:42:00.001+03:00

          A long, long, long time ago, I went on a safari to Arusha National Park, and took photos, which I later posted online. You've probably seen them, and I'll agree with you, they're not much to look at. All you get to see is some park info boards before the album ends because the internet cafe where I was uploading them closed. I'm sorry you had to wait so long, but I promise you, it will have been worth it...
          The updated safari pictures has many new features:
          •   In picture text as well as captions (be sure to read both, some photos won't make sense with out the caption...) explaining the highlights of the photo.
          •   More interesting photos (I removed all the info board pictures to make room for more pictures inside the park, as well as done some extreme cut backs, all to ensure you get to see the most interesting photos).
          •   More photos, period (Even after extreme cutbacks, there are still nearly 300 photos for your entertainment).
          •   A Safari Hunt!

          Tired of your dull and boring lives far away from the excitement of the African Savanna? I feel for you, which I why I decided to find a way to let you go on your own safari hunt while sitting in front of your computer! "How, oh wondrous one, is this possible?" you ask. well, through out the photos of the park I've hidden emoticon critters (stuff like |:C and :3), etc.). As you look at the photos, you can also hunt for the text critters hidden inside. A prize will be awarded to the first one who finds all the emoticon figures hidden thought the album. Just post your count here in the comments section of this post.
          I hope you enjoy the pictures, and happy hunting!

E’ya! - Tate

Day 47: Computers...

2010-02-26T19:25:00.001+03:00

          The Computer. A complex and ingenious invention that fulfills a wide multitude of functions and services. But that is assuming you have one. And know how to use it to the full...
          First, I would like to take a moment to thank my bibi on my mother's side, Joyce Swanson, for giving me this laptop. Without it, this whole entire blog would not have been possible. THANK YOU!!!! Now I am neither blind nor ignorant. I won't say that I didn't know that most people in Tanzania don't have computers or know how to use them beyond sending e-mail, as I did. And I won't say that I didn't realize how much I used my computers back home, as I was fully aware of exactly how addicted I was to them. And I know how useful a working knowledge of how to use a computer can be to some one, even if they have to go to an internet café to use one. Probably the one thing I was not expecting was how slow the internet is here in Tanzania (or is that how super fast it is back home?).
          One thing a computer is good for is searching for colleges. Especially foreign ones in another country, like the US. Faraja, my cousin (Shangazi Eli-aremisa's second born), is a primary school teacher. She wants to come to the US to study special education (especially hearing impairment). However, as you may have guessed, she doesn't have a computer, and doesn't' know how to use one. First I showed her some basics, the proper way to touch type, how to use a mouse, etc., on my laptop. I had her practice by writing a letter in Microsoft Word to me. I promised her that if she was really good and only wrote about what a fabulous cousin I was, I'd take her to the internet the next day to look for colleges.
          The next day we walked the short distance to Paulina, an old friend of Baba's. Her father was, in fact, the old King of Meru. From there Ino took us to Christina's for Lunch. From Christina's we went to Tengeru to go to the Internet. Faraja meet us there, and I spent the rest of the day helping her open an e-mail account and start looking at schools. We focused on schools near home, as she will be staying with us while going to school. Jovin will be coming with her of course, so it looks like I'll get lots of practice at playing the "cool" Mjomba. It shouldn't be too much of a problem, so long as he doesn't start asking me for money...

E’ya! - Tate

Jump to: Day46 or Day 52

Day 46: My Baba's A Museum

2010-02-25T19:21:00.001+03:00

          Most kids feel like their parents belong right next to the dinosaurs at the Smithsonian. Today I found the museum where my baba belongs: his old primary school in Sakila (the second one he went to), where he attended standard 4 (4^th grade).
          My baba grew up in a lot of places all over Meru, and everyone in those places will claim that that is his hometown. Sing'isi is one, Sakila is another. Baba went to Sakila when he was 9. Every day he would get up at three in the morning to hike up the hill to school. By the time he reached the field across from the school at eight, he was already late. Storing his lunch in the footlockers (a line of thick tress and bushes), he'd run the last hundred meters and line up to receive his strokes for being tardy.
          But I'm getting a head of myself. Let me start the day out properly. From bed, of course.
          I'm often a little bit cold when I wake up at Shangazi Eli-aremisa's. This is because Baba likes it really cold when he sleeps, and insists that all the windows be left wide open. I've since gotten a second sheet for my bed, but some days it's not enough... By the time I get up Shangazi Eli-aremisa, Baba Kitoi (her Husband. In Tanzania it is common to be nicknamed after your first born), and Salome (Eli-remisa's last born) have already left for work. Faraja (Eli-remisa's second born) will have come over and dropped of Jovin before leaving to go teach at a near by primary school. I have to be very quite when I first wake up if I want to dress in peace, as Jovin will want to play with me right away. I don't know why he likes me so much, as we can barely communicate. One of us must be very strange. Probably Jovin.
          I eat breakfast while playing with Jovin, then wait for us to finally get going to wherever it is we're going that day. Sometimes we leave as early as ten. Other times, as late as two. Today we left somewhat early, around eleven. Ino took us down to the main road where we met Shepard Isankiya. It was he who took us to Sakila to see Baba's old friend, Eliudi, the Bishop. He and Baba were childhood friends way back in the day. Eliudi's wife had recently died, bringing him back home from the States.
          After talking with him for a while, Isankiya drove us to the place where Baba's old primary school had been. Nothing was left, just a large empty field. Then we found out that that wasn't where Baba's school had been. Two old men came by and showed us where the school was, just back up the road a bit, still standing and in use. Wouldn't you know it, one of those two old men was Baba's old school mate! Better yet, the building that had held Baba's old classroom had been turned into a museum, and so his old classroom was still there. The upkeep left a little to be desired, but Baba could tell where his desk used to be. Baba also showed me the "footlockers" where he would store his lunch (and hope no wild animals got to it before he did), as well as the spot where he would get whooped everyday for being late (after which he had to say "Thank you, Sir!", or get more strokes).
          From the school we went to visit Ndevera Urio, Baba's sister (who had gone to school in Sakila with him), who lived near by. Once again we had to get help from another old man to find the place. You could tell not many people in cars ever came to his place, as there was no road, just a boarder between a corn field and a small drop off barely wide enough for Isankiya's truck. Ndevera's husband and Baba chatted about old times, and how much their joints hurt, and who knows what else in Kiswahili. Finally Baba asked to see Ndevera. We were then informed that she was very sick with something (thought they didn't know what). Ndevera was staying in a little crude shed outside, so we went out to meet her. Ndevera was awake, sitting up in bed, and Baba spend a long time talking with her before he was finally ready to go. Next stop, home (at Eli-aremisa's)!

E’ya! - Tate

Jump to: Day 45 or Day 47

Day 45: Where It All Began...

2010-02-24T19:15:00.002+03:00

          Today we went back to the place where my baba made his first Tanzanian money. We kept a very low profile...
          Sing'isi. A sleepy village up in the hills of Meru. The perfect place to make money. Which is exactly what my father did, back in the 1950's. But that's a story for another time. Today we finally went to Sing'isi to visit the place where my baba had lived and worked while making money, as well as to see the Kitomari's, old friends of Baba.
          We went to visit the family of Philip Kitomari (a relative of Nedwido who we met in Arusha). My babu brought Baba here to live with them, and he was sort of temporarily adopted into their family. Baba became Philip Kitomari's fourth son, after Jeremiah, Moses, and Anthony. We first stopped at Jeremiah Kitomari and his wife. His son Tito also lives in his own house on the same property (would that be a daughter-in-law house?). From there we walked up the road to the place where my baba lived while making money, at Murasa (though everyone called Mama Petro because of Baba). The house was gone, but Makoka (the widow of Anthony Kitomari) still lived near by. When we got there while she was working with the cows. "Is it really you?" she cried when she first saw Baba. We were immediately whisked inside and served tea and cooked corn (rather than steaming their corn, Tanzanians cook their cobs like popcorn. It makes for a chewy snack. I prefer the steamed variety, but I was very hungry, and ended up eating the whole thing). Baba told of how he made money (in English, so I could understand), since even here not everyone knew the whole, real, story.
          Once we finished at Makoka we went to Nedwido Kitomari. Baba talked with him (fortunately not for too long), and then it was time for one last stop at Alfred's house, the first place where Baba made money. Unfortunately, he wasn't there. We had a hard time finding Alfred, first going to one place, asking around, then being sent to another. Now, as a side note, there were a lot of children in the area, as school had just gotten out. And whenever one of them saw me, they would cry, "Mzungu! Mzungu!" Well I am not a Mzungu, I am a Meru (who happens to also be American). So I would alway shout back, "Meme si Mzungu! Meme Meru!". As it turns out, though, this was probably an even more convincing argument that I was a Mzungu, as I was saying it wrong. "Meme si Mzungu!" is correct, if one was writing in Kiswahili. When, however, one is speaking in Kiswahili, the more standard form is "Mesi Msungu!". Thanks, Baba...
          Just as we were about to give up looking for Alfred, we finally found him. It turned out he had been hiding from us, as he had thought we were the police! Finally though the confusion was straightened out, and he and Baba got to catch up on old times. At last it was time to get out of there and head home, before the police did come looking for a certain someone...

E’ya! - Tate

Jump to: Day 44 or Day 46

Day 44: The Other (Grand)Father

2010-02-23T08:00:00.003+03:00

          Ever seen the movie Coraline? Or read the book? In it the main character (a blue-haired girl named Coraline) finds a secret door in the living room that leads to another world. It's an exact duplicate of her own (house, land, even her parents), but everything is much nicer. Her Other Mother is much nicer, and her Other Father a lot cooler than the real ones.
          Well today I discovered that I too have an Other (Grand)Father. Don't worry though, he hasn't asked me to sew buttons over my eyes (yet, anyways...).
          So today I went to Sakila to visit my great-uncle David (he's the brother of my baby), and his son Anieli (who is a Jehovah's Witness). It was a very long drive, made even longer by the fact that we kind of left all our money at home. We got all the way to Usa River (that's "Oo-sah", not USA. I still think it's funny though...), about 20 km (13 miles) away, before I realized what we'd done. Sadly, this isn't the first time this has happened... So we left Baba in Usa, went home, got the money, went back, picked up Baba, bought tea leaves and sugar, and drove to Babu David's (I forgot to mention, but whenever one visits someone else, it's polite to bring some sugar and tea leaves. As I did mention, whenever you stop somewhere, the householder always offers you food. So bringing tea and sugar is like taking care of the drinks end of the meal. We haven't done this everywhere we visited, just when we visited someone very important)
          Oh hey, you're probably wondering why, if he's my great-uncle, I call David my Other Babu. That's because in Tanzania, they don't just use the titles "Aunt" or "Uncle". Take for instance, the brother's of my baba. These are called either Baba Mkubwa (greater father, for someone older than my baba) or Baba Mdogo (lesser father, for someone younger than my baba). The sisters of my father, though, are just Shangazi (Aunt). The same titles are used for Shangazi's on my mama's side (the brother's all just being Mjomba). Where was I going with this? Oh, yeah! So, David, being the younger brother of my babu on my baba's side, he's also my babu. But he wouldn't be if he was the brother of my babu on my mama's side. Got it? No? Good!
          Babu David lives with Efrieli, where he has his own small room. He is very old. In fact, he's the only one of his generation (family line wise) left, besides my bibi (my baba's mama), on my baba's side of the family. Babu David can't walk, but he's still very sharp and remembers lots of very old things. Baba was supposed to ask him some questions (fact about past events and stories), but with all the other people there we never got around to it. We, or rather baba, talked with babu David for a while (he said that I needed to learn Kiswahili, and I promised that I was). After eating dinner (Babu David was carried out of his room to come eat with us), we went to Mjomba Anieli's (David's son) house, just a little ways down the hill.
          Mjomba Anieli built this home himself in 1979, the same year my "younger" sister Anande was born (wait a minute, I probably shouldn't have told the world how so very old my sister is... Oh well, she's in the US, and I'm in Tanzania, I'm sure she'll forget about it by the time I go home...). Visiting Mjomba Anieli was Dekirwa, a man Baba had taught the Bible to a long time ago. Baba, of course, was very happyt to see him, and they spent a long time catching up. By the time we went to leave, the sun was sinking down below the horizon. Now in the US, twilight lasts for quite a while. In Tanzania it lasts for a couple of minutes. By the time we got into the car and got it turned around, the sun was down, and night was settling in. Now we got to test Cousin Ino's (Innocent, he drives us most places...) driving skills. First was getting out of the drive way. The turn off to Babu David's was down hill. It wasn't super steep, but it was all dirt, which made up for any lack of incline. We finally had to get help from people to push us up the hill and back onto the road.
          If you want to go anywhere in Tanzania, make sure you have four wheel drive (and lots of clearance).

E’ya! - Tate

Jump to: Day 43 or Day 45

Day 43: Depressed...

2010-02-22T20:51:00.005+03:00

          I've been rather depressed as of late, and you can help me get over it! To find out what I need you all to do, read this post...
          (Don't worry, I don't want your money, just a little finger work...)
          Today I paid a visit to Christina's House, the first place Baba and I had stayed at on arrive in Tanzania. We had been invited to lunch, and I wanted to take some photos of the place. While there I finally saw some evidence that I was slowly learning Swahili. The dinning room has a bathroom who's toilet has a rather strange flushing mechanism. At first I thought it was broken, then I noticed a sign reading "Vuta Hapa". Have seen these words before on store doors, I knew exactly what to do.
          I will here admit that I was somewhat depressed over my blog. So far it's been a rather one way street, with me shouting out into the void, unable to tell if anyone was listening. I mean, knew some were (I had a subscription count of 15), like my family. But I had been hoping for a much larger audience. So that's part of the reason why it's been so long since my last update. The other reason is because the internet started acting up right as I came out of my funk and started writing again, so I didn't get a chance to publish anything.
           So, the question become, what am I going to do to get more of a reaction out you? First off, if you like this blog, please leave a comment on the Karibu post on the front page of this blog. It doesn't have to be long, a simple "Keep it up Tate!" is all I ask for. Help me out here, folks, show me your team spirit! I've also already implemented a simple voting scheme to see what you think of my individual posts. At the bottom of each post is a reactions section, with boxes next to different responses. Check the ones that you agree with. It's not that hard, all it takes is a single mouse click. Then I can tally up the reactions and get a warm glow inside (or decide to just end it all, it's all up to you!). Lastly, I'll try to create some interactive posts (once I figure out exactly what that is).
           I know I've mostly been posting boring "Day" posts, rest assured, I have far more expansive plans for this blog than that. For one, I have a few stories I need to finish (like how my father became rich and famous, as well as a wanted criminal, all at the age of 10). I'm also thinking of doing a collection of family tree posts, introducing you all to my crazy Tanzanian family (though you probably don't want that...), so that you'll know who all I'm talking about. I also imagine you'd like me to put names to all the faces of people in the pictures I've uploaded.
          Having spent quite a lot of time on this blog (even if it doesn't' look like it), I've gotten my feet wet and learned how long it takes to get stuff done. Which is why I say that I probably won't get all that done before I go back to the States (though miracles might happen). However, I've already been planning to continue to work on this blog when I'm back there. It might be worth your while to continue to look it up in following months.
          Whatever I decide to do, rest assured I'm back on the band wagon, slaving away for you guys! (And I thought I was going on a vacation, ha!)

E’ya! - Tate

P.S. - Another way you could help me out is by subscribing (even if you don't plan on using it) so that you can be logged into my readers count.

Jump to: Day 42 or Day XX

Day 42: Leaving Karibu Home...

2010-02-21T21:02:00.002+03:00

          Today we moved out of Karibu Home. Zara had found some people who wanted to rent the presidential suite, and it really was time for us to go... Not that I'm happy about it!
          I really can't over emphasize how awesome Zara Okash has been to us throughout our stay at Karibu Home. She's gone out of her way to make sure we've been comfortable and had everything we need. So it was with great sadness that we finally parted, vowing one day to return.
          Packing our bags, we got a ride from my cousin Immanuel (who's also a tour guide) to the Sunday meeting. Baba and I went out preaching door-to-door afterward (for the second time), and Baba got to conduct a rather nice, if long, bible study. From service we headed over to Shangazi Eliremisa's house. Everyone there had been begging us to come back and visit them again (they'd even had a room prepared and on standby).
          The plan had been to then go and visit my Mjomba Shoudi after moving in. "But?" you ask. Ah, I see you're catching on fast to how things go for us in Tanzania. As you may have already guess, we didn't go, as it was very far, and by the time we were ready, it was just too late. So we went to visit Mjomba Wilfred's (Shangazi Eliremisa's husband) brother ???????????????? at Tumani University College (yes, it's a university college, haven't you ever heard of those before?).
          This, I was pleasantly surprised to learn, was where Elizabeth lived. She had come to visit Baba and I some few days earlier at Karibu Home, and I hadn't gotten to finish teaching her some of my favorite card games. I didn't have my cards with me (I had left them at Shangazi Eliremisa's, having just found out that I was missing five cards, a fact which has made me very upset), of course. I'll have to remedy that, I must always take cards with me everywhere! They are my third most valuable possession, after my laptop and camera.
          Instead we ended up playing paper games till it was time to leave. You can always find something to do...

          I'll have to see if I can beg my mother to send me some more decks of cards...

E’ya! - Tate

Jump to: Day 41 or Day 43

Day 41: The VIP Fumble

2010-02-20T21:04:00.006+03:00

          Today Baba had a very important meeting with an old friend of his, Ndewirwa Kitomari. Read and be amazed at what was supposed to be a simple breakfast date...
          Kitomari has been a very busy man, serving as chief accountant for the East African Community, Secretary of Commerce for Tanzania, then Secretary of the Treasury (Governor of the bank of Tanzania), and then later working with the World Bank in Abidjan, Ivory Coast. He retired now, but still well connected, and Baba wanted his help with his various projects for coming back to Tanzania, including the property we want to buy in Arusha.
          Kitomari had come from Dar-Es-Salaam to Sing'isi the day before (in Meru). Unfortunately, we could not meet him there as that was where Baba got into trouble with the British way back when. Everyone still remembers Baba and regards him as a hero, so we've been avoiding the place. Instead Kitomari agreed to meet us in Arusha early this morning.
          At first it was going to be breakfast, and Zara prepared a large meal, but Kitomari called to say he would let us know when he would get to Arusha, so we sat down to wait. A little before noon Kitomari called to say that he would be at the Arusha Hotel in downtown in four minutes and why don't we meet him there. We, however, were at Zara's in Sakina, a suburb of Arusha and about fifteen to forty five minutes away, depending on traffic.
          Furthermore, Zara had left to buy groceries, taking her car with her. This left only one other vehicle, which was Allen, Zara's mentally disabled son. Allen loved riding in his car, and it was a useful pacifier at times. Today Allen was in a bad mood, and would not let us use his car, not without taking him with us, anyways. Which left us stranded.
          Baba called Mjomba Ndelekwa, who lived near by, to see if he could give us a ride. Unfortunately, he had just taken some medication which made him very drowsy. But he promised to take a counteractive drug that would wake him up and come get us as soon as he could. While waiting, Zara called us. When she found out what was going on, she decided to rush home with the groceries and get lunch cooking, in hopes that we could entice Kitomari to come and eat at Karibu Home.
           Zara ended up getting home before Ndelekwa, so we hurried inside her vehicle. We had to race, as Allen was hurrying towards the car, intent on getting in himself. Just as we were pulling out the main gate, who should we see but Ndelekwa, come to pick us up. Baba jumped out and told him the score, then raced back to the car (Allen, meanwhile, tried to get into Mjomba Ndelekwa's vehicle). At last we were off for Arusha Hotel. We were only thirty minutes late, virtually on time by Tanzanian standards.
          Kitimoari was waiting for us at the hotel, and was very excited to see Baba and hear all he had to tell him. We did manage to convince him to come back to Karibu Home for lunch. Unfortunately, the food, though cooked, was not out on the table yet. And since, in Tanzania, saying the food will be ready in 'just five minutes!' normally really means one or two hours, Kitomari left.
          The lunch was fabulous, though. Having only had a light breakfast, and no dinner, I was able to make Zara happy by really tucking into my meal and eating two servings. So, for me personally, I'd have to count that as the highlight of the day.

E’ya! - Tate

Jump to: Day 40 or Day 42

Day 40: Free Internet!

2010-02-19T21:07:00.006+03:00

          Today I didn't get anything done on my blog. I did, however, get to visit some relatives, and found a free internet connection. So I had fun, even if you all were bored...
          The day started off bright and early at 9:00 am. The plan was to eat breakfast, then visit my Shangazi Ika (it's actally Eka or Eka-Eli, but many mispronounce it. Like me! :) ) and her husband, Nginana. They own a nice motel, called Motel 77, on a large, nicely manicured, property near downtown Arusha. From there we were going all the way to Sakila, way up into the mountains of Meru to visit my Mjomba Amos.
          My cousin Innocent was coming with his father, Mjomba Wilfred, to take us to Ika's and then from there to Amos's house. He was supposed to come get us after breakfast, so we knew not to expect him before noon. We were right, and go to Shangazi Ika's just in time for lunch. That was when we found out that she had a computer that was connected to the internet!   I don't think I've mentioned it before, but I've been blowing 1,500 to 2,000 Tanzanian shillings an hour on Internet cafes to post stuff on this blog, and 5,000 Tish. an hour to use the fast hotel internet to upload pictures. So the prospect of free internet was a godsend.
          The internet was down (had been intermittently for the past couple days), so we decided to come back after visiting Mjomba Amos and see if we could at least check our mail. Baba also had some very important paper he needed to send, so he was just as excited as me.
          From Shangazi Ika's we drove about 35 km (22 miles) to Songoro to visit my Mjomba Amos. The roads were rough and it was uphill most of the way. We were definitely going to have to get out here before dark. Somehow, word had traveled ahead of us (isn't it amazing how fast talk travels? I swear it violates the laws of physics and travels faster than the speed of light...), and everyone was waiting, not only Mjomba Amos, but all of his family, including those who had already moved out.
          We ate, talked (well, Baba talked, I played cards with a cousin) and took pictures of the place. Amos wanted me to come back some day so that he could take me around and show me Meru, including a hike up to the highest point to take pictures. For dinner we were served banana stew and Nswa, a blend of corn, banana, peas, and milk. It tastes a little like rice cereal, only not quite as good. (Banana stew is made with green banana, and tastes a lot better than it sounds.)
          We got out of there just as it was beginning to get dark, and made the long and treacherous trip back to Ika's. At Ika's the internet was up, so Baba was able to check his e-mail and send off the papers he needed to. By then it was past midnight, so we just went home and crashed. We had stopped by Shangazi Eliremisa's house (Cousin Innocent's mother) before Ika's, and my cousin Salome had offered us food. We politely turned her down fearing that we'd also be offered food at Ika's and back home at Zara's. This did not happen. By the time we got back to Zara's everyone was asleep, so we were forced to go to bed hungry. I didn't complain though, but toughed it out, living up to my Tanzania roots. I'm no wimpy American! Before going to bed, I promised myself to work hard on this blog and go back later to post it. Then I went to sleep.

E’ya! - Tate

Jump to: Days 32-35 or Day 41