UC What We See

If a pictures worth a thousand words, then what about a video

2008-07-14T14:38:00.004-04:00

To all of you that followed my blog, heres a link to my video on youtube. Perhaps it will fill in any blanks I may have left.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JGw24OvopBE

Airports are Multicultural Chaos

2008-02-22T12:34:00.003-05:00

I'm sitting in the airport in Musoma waiting to go to Arusia and climb Mt. Meru. The airport is ridiculously small. There's only one gate, Gate 2; I think the 2 is intended to make themselves feel bigger. The runway is dirt, and it's in the middle of the town.

Security consists of a man digging through everyone's stuff. When the man went through my bag (the flap was in my way, so I couldn't see in) he hesitated at an item and was like "what is this?" I looked in and said, "tampons;" which satisfied him, but I'm not sure if he understood or just got the "you don't want more details" vibes. Then an Asian guy that had been hitting on me in the security line (it was like 9 am, and he was asking if he could pick me up when I return next week) also started pulling stuff out of a suitcase. It was actually Karen's stethoscope, and she got a bit defensive. He had played all buddy buddy with the security man and got behind the table with him.

Then, when we came in the waiting room, the Asian guy (who told me he was going to Dar, which is right on the ocean) decided to pack a fresh fish to take with him. They put it in a sack, two plastic bags, a box, and roped it up. I just don't quite understand.

I can hear the airplane outside, or maybe saying "right behind me" describes it better than saying "outside."

My Day, Plain and Simple (Tuesday, February 19, 2008)

2008-02-21T16:25:00.002-05:00

Today I went by myself, but with a driver, to collect samples from our newest village. It's about one bumpy hour away, and is the village of our translator. We held a workshop there two Thursdays ago, and today was the first time collecting samples. Actually our translator, who is an extremely involved, dedicated filter person put on the workshop. We used it as an opportunity to gauge our own success, through his ability to be successful at holding a workshop.

There had been no new filters built, as no one managed to get pipe. Pipe is only found in the town I live in or farther away. Either way, there were two working filters, and a lot of really good vibes. I also helped to build another filter, although nearly all the prep work had been done, and we simply had to assemble the thing. After assembling the filter, we were fed breakfast bread and chai. It was sort of special for me, because I usually avoid eating on surveys. I have almost 20 houses in each of the other villages, and could not complete my work in a day if I ate at half my houses.

We then went to a non-filter home, which is what we use as our control group. It was the most amazing thing ever, the woman was a local midwife. She showed me her record book. It was where she recorded the date, mother's name and village, baby's name, and something in a column labeled "dead." I only looked at the first page, but of about 15 - 25 entrys, in the dead column all but three were vertical hash marks, one was a horizontal hash, and two were blank. I asked what the horizontal hash meant, and the translator said that the baby lived. So it sounds like all but one, or three, of her first 20 recorded patients died. Wow! Although that was in 1989. I really wanted to take a picture (we use our camera as a photocopier) of every single page. Anyway, on that first page she had about ten babies a month. In the survey, I found out that she had attended no school, and delivered her own children herself.

There was even a very pregnant lady just wondering around the room for a while. She picked up a pile of dried leaves and went out. I just wanted to stay and ask questions, but we finished the rest of the surveys and went home.

When I got home, I found that Ausubuhi had sliced his hand at school, and had to get stitches. Apparently he did it in the morning, but couldn't get stitches for six hours because his stomach had to be empty for the anesthesia. So he was totally passed out and everyone was just watching him. So I walked over to the lab to prep my seven samples (that was easy compared to the usual 45 samples).

Unfortunately, when I took the agar out of the autoclave, it didn't look quite right. So I swirled it a little, which broke the surface tension, making it erupt and land all over my hand. I wiped it off, and it felt fine, but about five minutes later it was soooooo painful. It was also bright pink, because there is red and blue die in the agar. Everyone who saw my hand said, "Wow, that's bad."

Later that evening I went to see the little guy, and he was starting to wake up. They had a matress in the middle of the living room for him, and I lied there with Sara and him. Otherwise, he kept wanting to get up, which didn't seem to work so well. Anyway we got the first laugh out of him, when we played the "pull open each others closed eyelids" game. Then, when the generator got turned on, we watched Al Jazeera, the BBC of the Middle East. He fell asleep on my lap and drooled all over my leg.

On Wednesday, it was back to the same old. We went to a village to collect samples and source water. My hand was so burnt that I had to wrap it a bit to avoid the pain from the Sun.

I got extremely annoyed when we met a child that Daniel told me was not in school because she didn't have the right color shoes at the moment. He told me it was just a rule. I explained to him that I could understand the rule if she had them, but chose not to wear them; but not having them means she can't wear them, so why shouldn't she go to school?

Back in town, the power had been off since Sunday morning. That was definitely a record for me, over three days. It's easy to live without power (minus blogging, which I do from my phone), but working without power is another story. Sarah and I agreed that we would be able to do the source waters after another visit (many of the source water tests require a spectrophotometer), but we were able, and going, to do the household samples. It was disappointing, but we decided it wasn't so bad. Just as we were finishing the tests, the electricity came back on. We started the source water tests, and were in the lab until midnight, again.

Little People Do the Funniest Things

2008-02-18T11:21:00.002-05:00

Ausubuhi has been over at the hostel, which is now full of 10 mzungu, almost every day for hours. I would have to say that if there are this many mzungu here for very long he is going to become insanely spoiled. Anyway, this morning he came over and I asked why he wasn't at school, already knowing he was sick. He dirsegarded my question and mumbled something about coming in. He wandered over to the coloring set that's always at the hostel, opened it, and got all sad that the pencil sharpener wasn't there. He doesn't necessarily like to color, but he loves to sharpen pencils, which is why the sharpener had been hidden. The pencils are getting short, and there are always shavings all over the place. So he didn't find much interest in the coloring set, but before he was able to do anything, someone was sent to collect him, because after all, he was home from school because he was sick.

His English is really picking up though. He always says, "This you?" to ask if something is yours, but yesterday he said, "This yours?" Overall, there are a lot of things that he says that he didn't used to say.

Freddy Teaches Us Time

2008-02-18T11:14:00.002-05:00

A couple of weeks ago our Swahili tutor brought us a list of 200 words we should know. A day later he came back to pick up the list, and I hadn't copied them down. After begging, he finally brought them back, and I wanted to share. Some of them are essential, useful words; some are just funny.

166. anasa - luxury or luxuriousness
167. maamuzi - arbitration
180. adimika - be unobtainable, very scarce
182. janga - calamity
116. saa ngapi? - what time is it? Note: The answer to this depends upon whether the African or European system of reckoning hours is used. There are 24 hours in the African day, but the counting begins with sunrise and sunset. What therefore would be 7 am by European reckoning is one o'clock (saa moja) by the African system. There is always a six hour difference.

Small Snake

2008-02-10T21:15:00.000-05:00

Several months ago a snake came into the hostel. Sarah shooed it out with a twig that was a bit short for my own comfort level. I'm not afraid of snakes, but when there are so many deadly snakes here, and I don't really know what any of them look like, I'd prefer not to take my chances with any of them.

Today Sarah screamed when she entered the house, and explained that she had almost stepped on a snake. So we all went to look and there was a small black snake, no thicker than a pencil and shorter than a foot, in the front yard. It was acting all big and moving its head agressively. We contemplated what to do. I recalled that after we shooed the snake out last time we never heard the end of it when a neighbor got bit several weeks later; even though the guy didn't die and I'm sure it wasn't the same snake. Anyway, the point is that we had been clearly advised that it's culturally accepted (or expected) that snakes be killed. So we put the same trashcan we used on the scorpian over it, but he crawled through one of the millions of holes. We thought about leaving him, but he crawled toward the house. We agreed that we should just kill him, but the only thing we had were butter knives and my swiss army knife (which we needed to cut our watermelon in the afternoon). Eventually I found a hoe; making it my job to take care of the snake. I scooted him out from the grass where he was hiding and chopped him in half.

It was really sad. I know it's just a little snake. When I scooted him out from the grass he was just calm and harmless looking. He must have cooled off from almost being stepped on. It just didn't seem right to kill something that had done nothing to me. I know I did what was supposed to be done, but it was still sort of evil feeling.

Cool Co-ops Contest

2008-02-09T10:25:00.000-05:00

Thank you to everyone that voted for me in the Cool Co-ops Contest. I am one of the one hundred winners. They will be announcing and recognizing all of the winners at the UC basketball game on February 20th. THANKS!!!

And the Hard Work Pays Off

2008-02-02T13:05:00.000-05:00

Tonight we stopped by the store to get some sugar for our chai, well that and some cookies. Usually a man runs the shop, and he jumps at the chance to talk to us in English. Tonight though, a woman was there. I'm proud to say, that other than the fact that we are white, we pretty much could have blended in. YAY, for learning some Swahili.

Here's how it went: We asked for sugar and biscuits, and she told us she was out. Then the man next door came over to say he had sugar, and she ordered it from him. She asked me how many kilograms I wanted, and I told her. Then she told me how much it cost, and I dug through my purse and paid her. We walked away extremely content with ourselves.

Now just imagine that being an accomplishment, let alone after four months. But really, if we're not in the lab, we are around people that speak English or Luo, not Swahili. I think the only reason we even did it is because it was Karen and me. I think if I had been with Sarah, she would have spoken in English and pointed and hoped they understood. Also Sara, the other Sara, would have taken care of the whole thing without letting me try. And if I had been by myself, I wouldn't have gotten sugar or cookies. Karen and I made a perfect pair at that moment, and it was satisfying.

As a side note, this afternoon we went up on a small mountain that overlooks the lake, and just did our stuff and enjoyed ourselves. When I got home, I decided to scrub my feet with a used face wipe. I used to think my feet were tan, but then I washed them. Today when I scrubbed, I couldn't get the dirt off, so now I'm really confused as to whether they're dirty or the wrong color of tan. If I scrubbed any harder my skin would have come off. That means that if it's not a tan, the dirt has basically become me. Now that's scuz!!!

Freddy's Swahili Lessons

2008-02-02T08:41:00.000-05:00

We have Swahili lessons on Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays, and have now had a total of five lessons. The medical student, Karen, that is here for two months felt so disconnected from her patients that she requested a tutor. Sarah and I attend, and the mother and daughter from Indiana that will be here for three months also have started to attend.

At first I was quite skeptical of Freddy, our teacher. He seemed sort of boring and I just wasn't impressed. In the last week he has grown on me a lot, and Swahili lessons have become so much fun. He's probably the funniest person I have met here and it's not on purpose at all. For the first two lessons, we had spent all of the previous night in the lab, so I rolled out of bed when I heard him entering the house. No teeth brushing, and maybe still in pajamas. I'm sure I made a good first impression.

On lesson two or three he started telling us that he could tell that we hadn't practiced while he was gone. He sounded very hurt and disappointed. He asked me a question, and I was so proud to be able to respond. But when I gave my answer he gave me a face of disapproval and another question. Again I answered with what I thought was correct, and he said, "Let's try Karen." Eventually, after much confusion, it was cleared up that he simply wanted me to repeat his question; when I did, he became very content.

On Thursday he left us his notebook in which he had written 200 important vocabulary words. I have not yet had time to copy it down, but when I do, I'll share some of the funniest ones. I had time to notice that he had given us mostly all A words, and then a few Z words. . . did he lose the middle of his dictionary? He also had an explanation of time written down which compared the "African System of Reckoning" with the "Western System of Reckoning," which I will also have to post word for word. I should add that we are working out of a Swahili book that uses words from colonial times, like sultan instead of governor or the equivilant. This morning we had a 20 minute lesson on directions, and at the end he said, "But we don't say this, this or this, that was only said in colonial times," and then he taught us how it's said now.

He always says "Are we together?" and then reads our facial expressions because no one wants to say yes and no one wants to say no. If he thinks we understand, he will begin saying all sorts of things really quickly in Swahili as if we understand everything. Then he again gives the pitiful face when we don't understand.

He's a great teacher. He follows the book for about two minutes, then takes us on a tangent for twenty. In one hour, we complete about two pages of his lesson book. Also, his english is not the best, so asking questions usually causes more confusion than clarification. Sometimes we try to come up with Swahili examples to gauge if our theory or question is right, and when it's not he just looks more disappointed. But the miscommunications are what make it fun and memorable. I think I remember more with him than I would if I had a perfect teacher.

I guess I'm disconnected from reality, so I don't really know if it made you guys laugh or not. Whether it did or not, lessons are the highlight of my day. The other people here and I (or atleast Karen and myself) really enjoy them.

Smiles Are Free

2008-02-01T20:45:00.000-05:00

A couple of days ago I went to fill up a water bottle to use later as shower water. We filter our supply of green water, then put it out in the Sun to solar disinfect it. When I picked up the water bottle that I had made Kool-Aid in the day before, I hesitated, but then realized any left over flavor would be a nice addition. It's the closest I'm going to get to a perfumed bubble bath.

I smile every time I think about it. I find it a little funny, but mostly I smile because I never could have imagined that I would consider such a simple thing so special.

Something shower related and extra special: The other day I used a water bottle from the Sun to take a shower in the afternoon for the first time in the last four months, and it was still warm! I couldn't believe it. The warm water was like a spa or something. I really felt like I wasn't in the middle of nowhere!

Familiar Can Be Comforting

2008-01-31T15:11:00.000-05:00

After an evening just sitting and talking about fun stuff, I feel like things are back to how they were with the girls before I left, or better. It's a nice and comforting feeling when everything else has changed here, including the relationships, even though I was only gone for two weeks.

The changes are everywhere. Our living situation has changed; food, water, and rooming. We have a lot more work to do in the lab and otherwise. The weather is cooler and more gray. Travel won't be as certain as last time with the political situation in Kenya. And when all of the short term visitors, from various groups, made it hard to hang out with the girls, that was the icing on the cake. Change isn't always bad, but I was feeling a little lost.

Regardless of whether everything will stay back-to-normal or not, I feel comforted and ready to tough out whatever I have to.

It's 10 PM and I Can't Keep My Eyes Open!!!

2008-01-29T14:45:00.000-05:00

I should start by explaining that yesterday I spent five hours of non-stop hiking to collect water samples and survey data. I spent about three hours on the bumpiest road to get there and back, and then I spent over eight hours in the lab working with those samples.

This morning I climbed out of my mosquito net at 8 am when our Swahili tutor arrived. We had an hour and a half lesson, our third lesson ever; we started last week. And then I climbed back into bed for an hour.

I spent all day entering and organizing data, until the village chairman and water committee chairman of Nyambogo stopped by looking for Dina. I was in a sleeveless shirt since I had been working from home since it rained this morning. That's usually safe since the only non-western male visitor we ever have is five, Ausubuhi. When they stopped by I went looking for Dina, and came back only with three kids, not Dina. Eventually the visitors left and I received a phone call. I talked outside for a while, while Ausubuhi sat next to me and listened to my baby iPod. when I had to run inside (the iPod was clipped to me), he jumped up and tagged along like he was on a leash. He stopped inside the door to take off his shoes, and I only noticed because the earphones yanked on him. After that I paid more attention. When we got back outside I finished my conversation in front of an audience of about 20 little people that stared, but didn't understand. I just didn't have the energy to get them to leave.

When I finished talking on the phone, Ausubuhi and his two little friends, all of which spoke varying levels of English, played Uno with me. They had probably never played any card game, so it took plenty of patience to explain the 'same color or number' part. I'm also pretty sure they didn't understand that you win by getting rid of all your cards. Either way that was tiring, but fun.

On the way to dinner, there were about 100 high school kids coming from something, and I knew from the moment I saw them that I had used up my patience and energy for these types of things for the day. I wanted to turn around and not go to dinner. But we merged onto their road and got bombarded with questions and giggles and mockeries. When they were not so direct, and just in my general direction I just ignored them. Eventually they got right up in our space and started asking our names, and where we were going, and why, and if we would give them things; I just held in the screams. I think that was the most exhausting part.

When I got home I entered more data into the computer, mostly to delay going to bed; it was only 8pm. But now I can't fight it, I'm going to sleep.

Work or Play?

2008-01-25T19:11:00.000-05:00

I would have to choose today as my favorite day of work, out of the entire co-op experience.

We went to Nyambogo to rebuild some of the filters that were not working well. One was working especially poorly; I suppose that's what you call a filter that takes water with a 10 bacteria count per 0.1 mL and turns it into thousands. So we set out to fix these filters that we were hoping were built wrong. I mean, if they weren't built wrong, than it was something else, and we had done our best to cross off all the other possible problems. This field work is quite interesting in that we don't always have a control and chosen variables, like we do in the lab. Fortunately, we found that the filters had been constructed very poorly, and all should start to work wonderfully now that they are repaired. Two of the rules, or perhaps the only two, of construction of the filters had been broken. A sand filter must have three distinct layers, fine sand being the top and thickest layer (it also does the important work). A filter must be built where it will be used so that this layer doesn't get disturbed. Of the four filters we tore apart today, one filter had all three layers mixed completely together and the other three filters had hardly any sand. I will feel like today was worthwhile if these filters give good data in the coming weeks.

The part that made today so great was our goal being oriented around something physical rather than mental. It reduces communication issues and when we're done there is a visible product of which to be proud.

The thing that really topped off the day was the kids. After we all built the first filter together, we split up and went in two groups to handle the rest. One little kid, who sat next to me while I worked on her family's filter, walked all the way to the next filter home, barefoot with me. She held my hand the whole way back, even when the other little kids giggled, although it was probably because they were jealous, or mad that I didn't have 20 hands.

Then when I got to the third filter home, there were so many kids. We had a hold up and somehow all of my team members got lost looking for things and people. I got to sit with the kids and just have fun. We started to sieve the sand, which gave us something to do. There were no adults around, so I got to try out my Swahili/Luo without any embarrassment. Good thing too, because it's pretty bad; I had the kids laughing non-stop. I also used a little English with them.

While the translator had been around I heard them all telling me the same thing over and over again, so I asked what it was. He told me that they were saying, "You make water," not specifically as a question or a statement. I find that sort of funny considering I mentioned in the last blog that making water is the only thing we can't do to water. Anyway, every time they asked me, I would shake my head no, because we're only cleaning it, and that confused them a lot.

It was really fun to see them interact with each other and with me. I had always dreaded the kids in the villages just a bit, because when other adults are around I feel so self conscious about all the things big people worry about. Will they say something inappropriate? Will they ask for something? How do we communicate without sounding ridiculous? Will they get yelled at for poking at my skin or touching my hair? The worst of all is that if I'm nice to one kid there will be a million of them surrounding me, getting more and more wound up, until it's overwhelming and exhausting. But today there were only fifteen or twenty, and they were relatively calm; they didn't get out of control, and we just worked on sorting gravel. They giggled, and they tried out the things that I said, and they bickered only a little. They even got on a kick of leaning really close to me and speaking extra loud and slow, but they saw that I still didn't understand, so they gave that up.

It was a great day, I enjoyed it.

Water Trouble for the Water Team

2008-01-24T16:02:00.000-05:00

I don't remember if I already explained, but the water situation is more interesting in the hostel this time than last. There are eight pumps down at the lake, all of which once pumped water to a tank at the top of a hill before gravity fed water to our town . . . or so the story goes. Apparently the lake water level lowered, so only one of those pumps still remains under water. While we were home for Christmas, the final, submerged pump broke. There are many stories going around as to why it's not being fixed, but the important part is that now to get water, it must be hauled from the lake.

For a time, while there were lots of temporary guests in the hostel, we got water nearly every day, and we needed it. They would bring a drum, maybe 500L large, full of lake water and pump it up to our tank above the house, assuming there was electricity.

Now that we are only three, we still have water hauled every day. But they bring us about 60L per day, when we are lucky. I don't understand how 500L for 8 people is close to 60L for 3, but we are managing.

We spent all weekend with NO water. Well, when it sprinkled outside we all ran out to try to fill a bottle (1.5L) for showering. I've been managing with one shower every other day. Last night when I went to bed, I thought that the following morning was going to be the first time in my life a shower would be the reason I jumped out of bed without hitting the snooze. Unfortunately, after half a day of collecting samples and survey data in the hot sun on the edge of the Kenyan border, and spending from 2pm to 2am in the lab, not even that overdue shower could keep me from hitting snooze before my Swahili lesson. I admit, I attended the lesson without a shower.

A close second to showering is flushing the toilets, as none of us have agreed that it's time to retreat to the squatty potty, aka the pit latrines. On Sunday a man brought water on his bicycle, as they have been doing while the truck is being repaired. One man with three 20L jerry cans comes all the way from the lake (about a 15 min DRIVE) on his bike for 80 cents. The worst part is I went out to fill a bottle. Then I went for a bucket to get water to flush the toilet, but before I made it back outside he had dumped the water out in the yard and was off. I was confused, so I stood there, looking at the wet grass in total confusion. I still have not figured it out, but one thing I know is that the water was just fine for flushing the toilet. It is true that it was about the worst water we had ever had brought to us; it smelled like cow and was totally brown, not green.

Fortunately, as the water team, we know and have tried nearly all the tricks. Just about the only thing we can't do is make water out of no water. Although it rained so hard on Tuesday that we, meaning the house keeper, filled nearly half of the 500L drum with the best looking water I've seen since our bottled drinking water. Beyond that we are getting along quite well with a cloth sieve, the sand filter, and solar disinfection. The lab results will be in Saturday.

The sand filter had been previously set up to test water in a place where we knew its exact conditions, a control for our experiments. But I must say there is no way to test the filter quite like using it because you need it. I have learned more about that particular filter in the last week than in the prior three months.

The truck is fixed, and water came out of our taps again today; well, the lower ones. So I filled a bottle for tomorrow's shower, and almost wished for the man on the bicycle to come back.

I guess we had been spoiled in the first three months. As much as it sounds pitiful, its sort of fun. How else would I know that I prefer green to brown, algae and schisto to mud and poop?

The Little Guy

2008-01-21T16:06:00.000-05:00

When all else fails, or is just boring, the five year old will keep things interesting. His name is Ausubuhi, and he spent a few months in the United States last summer having skin grafted on his infected scalp burn. He now stays with our neighbors, so I see him all the time.

When I first got here in October he was hyper all the time, even in the house. He barely spoke English, just a few key words. His main language is the tribal language, Luo. At school he is learning Swahili, and at the neighbor's house they speak English. I found out quickly that he understood most things, even though he didn't have the words to reply. I also found out that he understood me mostly because of context; if I asked "What is . . . ?" he rarely understood.

Many nights I help get him get ready for bed. I brush his teeth, read to him, and put cream on the graft on his head. Occasionally, I help him take a bath, but he is pretty independent with that task and I mainly instigated him to make a huge mess, so I only do that when I really feel like getting wet.

Any time he hears me come in the door he calls for me. He can't say Ely, so he calls me Ali, like Prince Ali from Aladdin, not like Ally. One time Sara tried to teach him to say it right. She said, "Eh, eh, Ely;" his attempt was, "Eh, eh, Ali." And he got so much laughter out of us that for a couple days he said it a lot. Anyway, when I come in and don't find him when he calls, he runs in and climbs me like a tree. I would say that I instigate trouble a bit more than I should, but he's so cute.

When I returned after my two week trip home, he was shy for a day or two. Of course we were quite a large group of mzungu at first. He warmed back up though, and while the second group of mzungus were here, he always came to see me or find me.

I switched rooms when I got back, and the person in my old room said that several times he came looking for me and got disappointed when I wasn't there. In general he gravitates to me; the less I try, the more he hangs around. I felt bad because all the visitors wanted to play with him, but he eventually warmed up to them also.

After being gone for a while, it is clear that he has grown; he talks more and he understands more. One thing I notice is the longer the sentence, the quieter he speaks. Regardless, he's learning a lot, including phrases such as "just a second" and "no way."

A couple of days ago he was playing outside, and I told him he had stuff on his shoe. He said "just a second" and ran into the house. When he came back out he was wearing a different shoe, but only on one foot. So he had on a clog and a flip flop, and was perfectly happy. The clog was actually a shoe I ruined when he asked me to drag him all the way home on a long sandy road. It was like dirt skiing, and he loved it.

Yesterday he had me rolling in the grass with him. I took him outside because he wouldn't stop banging on the piano during his family's recital. We played soccer, and before I knew it, we were rolling in the grass. One thing about him is that if he doesn't smell like earth he must not be feeling OK, and he gets (needs) a bath every day!

He also walks all the way to kindergarten and home with only the neighbor child, who is also in his grade. Sometimes he gets home an hour or two late, but no one ever worries. He's so funny and makes it easier to be so far from home.

No News is Good News . . . Most of the Time

2008-01-15T08:01:00.000-05:00

Travelers often tell their families that no news is good news. That's definitely a good way to reduce stress when traveling to somewhat remote locations, but at the moment I'm going by the opposite theory. The university is having a Cool Co-op contest, and the winners will be announced at half time of a basketball game, amongst other things. I think it would be great publicity for the project, as well as the primary funders/supporters, which are the National Science Foundation and the University of Cincinnati.

You can vote for my project, which I put under Cool Places and titled "Clean Water in Tanzania" at:
http://www.uc.edu/coolco-ops/1cc_voting.asp

Thanks for all the support!!

Mangoes are My New Favorite Fruit!

2008-01-13T10:05:00.000-05:00

I have recently developed a liking for mangoes. They have a great flavor; it's like someone has taken a bit of spice from the cabinet (maybe cloves, I can't pick it out) and flavored the mango. But it's a lot more than the taste that I enjoy. It's having to get all messy tearing off the peel, though I still haven't gotten to the point of peeling it with my teeth. Then, when I bite into it, juice drips down my fingers, hands, and arms all the way to my elbows. It also drips down my chin, and the strings get stuck in my teeth. It's one enormous mess. The whole thing is like a real life metaphor.

In general I have never liked to be messy. I would normally want to wipe myself off five times during one mango. But it is a strangely comforting feeling to not have to care. It makes the mango a million times better.

I know there is no way I could be so messy in cold weather, so it's not only the American culture, but I feel like our culture plays a big part in setting standards for beauty and cleanliness. It's crazy, the whole thing. It seems that the standards of personal appearance are the hardest to break free from, and yet they can often be nearly impossible to conform to. To be seen as functional in our society you have to keep from crossing a fine line. From what I can tell, the line is a combination of beliefs, practices, interpersonal skills (which can compensate for a lot) and a million other things. It seems that a person can be off in many combinations of areas and still be considered functional in society; but if someone doesn't make efforts on their appearance, they are considered to have gone off the deep end. Actually, I can hardly think of anyone I know like that, but I could go on and on with a list of people that wish they didn't have to care. It's so intense, and rigid. If I just give a little thought to the typical American job interviewing process, with the need to look perfect and dress in a specific manner; I love mangoes even more.

Fresh Fish

2008-01-13T09:31:00.000-05:00

Since the education team of 10 people left on Wednesday a lot of our free time has been spent with a medical group from California. This morning we all got up early, for a Sunday. The reason? We had a rubber dingy reserved at the lake. There is an island nearby and someone had suggested visiting the island.

It took two trips to get about 15 people to the island. The first half were taken to the island, and the second half were the swimmers, not to be taken the whole way. The rubber dingy took us out past the shore, where all the fisherman were preparing their little boats. As we stripped down to our bathing suits, all the fishermen were watching us as though we were crazy. Apparently thighs are the big deal here. I think it's because people always have them covered, but there's the chicken or the egg question.

The island was much closer than I expected, and smaller as well. After we stripped there wasn't much hesitation. Everyone was in the water within 10 seconds, thankfully it wasn't cold at all. It had taken the boat about 10 minutes to reach the island with the first group, but it took me almost an hour to swim. The biggest concern for the medical people was getting sick. They discussed and discussed the risks before we got to the lake. I have already been exposed to schisto, and plan on treating myself in a few months, so my biggest fear was any creatures that might have been swimming with me.

Once I dove in I found myself in the dilemma of how to stick with the crowd. Half of the group paced themselves at what I thought would be too fast for me, and the other half went too slow for me. I feared not being near another person, because I felt like a bigger target for anything below me. Also, if a creature were to choose only one meal, my odds became better in a group.

I don't know about the logic, but I ended up paddling along with the slow group. Some swimmers slowed down, and were picked up by the rubber dingy, but another girl and I kept a pace that turned out to be perfect. The island kept slowly growing and growing, and I kept thinking that it would have been a nightmare if this wasn't by choice. It seemed so close that there is no way it could have been so far. I kept comparing it to the wall at the other end of the pool, and my judgement was continually wrong.

Regardless, algae swirled around my face, and I kept thinking of our water samples and the E. coli we find in even a single drop. Great for improving your immune system, although I might have a different take on it tomorrow. As we neared the island, there were some rocks with tropical birds, and bird poop, on them. I considered climbing onto them and using them as stepping stones to the shore, but the poop and the 'just finish' force kept me away. Good thing too, as we swam past I saw an enormous lizard, maybe a monitor lizard, sunning himself on a rock. We swam as fast as possible till the last second, then I stumbled up a rock and ran for the sand. The boat was just a little behind us, and when the boat people got out they told me that there had been a lizard, about three feet long with a head as large as mine, swimming right next to me, although someone else thought it was an otter. Either way, I was so grateful not to know until it was over. Then we wandered around the island and enjoyed ourselves for a while. I'm exhausted, but it was amazing!!

Recent Article about the VLOP trip

2008-01-12T00:58:00.000-05:00

Below is a link to an article published on the UC website about the Village Life Outreach Project's recent trip.

http://www.uc.edu/news/NR.asp?id=7676

Home and Back Again

2008-01-11T21:10:00.000-05:00

I had no idea what to expect when I returned home. I had spent three months in the middle of nowhere. Anywhere I had gone I stood out like a sore thumb, as a foreigner; everyone just stopped and watched. In Tanzania the electricity was on when it felt like it, and the rest of the modern conveniences that existed followed a similar trend. Considering all of this, I am surprised to reflect and see that I had little to no culture shock.

There were a few physical things that took me back. I was always surprised to get hot water out of the tap. Whenever I saw wet plates or silverware my first thought was to dry them off, before remembering that the water from the tap is clean. Other than that, being home was normal, and a really great break.

Coming back to Africa was quite a bit harder this time because I knew already the pain I would feel from missing people. In addition to missing people, I miss the understanding that surrounds me at home between everyone I interact with, both verbally and culturally. As much as I try to be culturally open, its hard to have people here, in Tanzania, curious, almost skeptical, of all the things that I do and believe, especially when they are things that are so fundamentally me that I never even thought about them. I suppose the rigidness of the culture here plays a role in the level of comfort I feel as an outsider. I have to mention that if this sounds miserable, I have given the wrong tone. It is definitely difficult, and after returning to my comfort zone for two weeks I would even call it a struggle for the moment, but it's good. I'm gaining a lot personally, and making a difference for the people around me. I also have come to the conclusion that by accepting the fact of not really fitting in with the people here, I can then be an influence to others. I can be an example of gender equality and other more subtle things.

At the moment, I'm sitting outside the local motel waiting to eat. Lunch was supposed to be at one, but its now one thirty, and still no sign of food. So I guess I will move on to the actual return and the past two weeks.

We returned just three days after the Kenyan elections with a group of about ten teachers. It was nice to travel with such a variety of people and personalities that still shared similar interests to mine. At first I could only think about missing people, but when we landed, the air and the weather, and everything about Nairobi reminded me that it was all worth it, and that this was what I wanted to be doing. After spending two weeks in Midwest winter, I felt that 'beginning of summer' feel the first few days that I was here. It was unlike my previous arrival, as I had come straight from a Cincinnati summer.

The journey to Shirati was a bonding experience with the new group. In addition to the experience of traveling through a political situation with a six year old - even if she is the world's best behaved six year old (Maya, Dr. Oerther's daughter, travelled with the group - NS) - it was New Years Eve, and we had temporary trouble on the underside of the car. We got stuck so bad that we tied the two cars together to pull the other out, then we punctured the oil pan of one van which put it totally out of use. This was while driving through safari (but not to look at the animals, only to take a less traveled road) which meant we were as in-the-middle-of-nowhere as possible. We once again tied the two vans together, stuffed all the luggage into one van, all the people into another (which made 12 in a nine person van), and pulled the second van to a small intersection. Amazingly the luggage van made it to our destination later that night, only a few hours after us; a miracle worked by our driver.

The two weeks with the group here were productive, and a change of pace of work for me. With the group gone, I'm still getting back into the life I was used to here for two months. There are several things that are different this time, but the changes seem to be adding a dynamic that keeps things interesting and challenging.

It's 2:15 and still no lunch!!!

Back for Round Two

2007-12-31T22:32:00.000-05:00

For anyone who hasn't been reading the news about Kenya, the current election and it's proclaimed results have caused riots in Nairobi and the rest of the country. I have heard from Ely, she and the group are safe, her blogging should start soon.

Only in Africa

2007-12-10T09:13:00.000-05:00

Here is my short list of funny and nice things that I only experience here. Only in Africa:

1. Is it more likely that the humming outside my window is a bug rather than a vehicle.

2. Have I ever seen a glow worm. It looked like a lightning bug on the ground, but when we passed it several times and it was in the same spot I wanted to look closer. There was a grub that looked like it had swallowed a lightning bug, but it didn't blink.

3. Is there a childhood rumor that if you put a chameleon on something red, it will explode. I'm on a cheap myth-busters mission, I just have to know.

4. Have I ever been offered a gift of a plot of beach front property.

5. Is it normal to push the car and pop the clutch to start it, as opposed to fixing the starter or whatever else is broken.

6. Is it so important that the girls don't push the car, that we have to get in before they will start pushing. I think that is the most awkward situation I get put into here. It really makes me feel like crap.

7. Have I ever had so many discussions and conversations over the equivalent of ten cents, but I knew it would be wrong for me to just say I didn't care. It would have made a really big mess of things, especially with people we encounter on a regular basis.

8. Has making PB&J ever been the highlight of my day. That's not to say that my days are boring, but with the right people and the right environment, simple things in life can be enjoyable.

9. Do I get people telling me good morning as the sun sets.

10. (my favorite) Have I ever had to duck when shaking someone's hand for fear of being knocked out with sugar cane. While visiting the last house of the day in Nyambogo, an old woman carrying sugar cane on her head wanted to shake my hand. I tried to approach from the side, but she kept wanting to turn her head toward me. The worst part was that the sugar cane was bowed, so I couldn't just duck a bit, I would have had to kneel.

The Workshop

2007-11-29T14:01:00.000-05:00

Yesterday we completed our three day workshop here, in Shirati. It provided a more thorough look at safe water for three water committee members from each of the three communities of Roche, Nyambogo, and Burere (nine people total, if that was confusing).

It started off early Monday when I walked by myself to the hotel. I think it was the first time I had walked through town on my own, but not because I hadn't felt safe. I was really excited because everyone was treating me as if I was a local. No muzungu crap, and everyone greeted me in Swahili. I was so excited - and then I got to the center of town. There everything went back to the usual as about ten people yelled muzungu at once.

The first day of the workshop was my day. I was so fortunate to present the subject of poop and compost. It actually was a lot more interesting than it sounds, it explained how to protect source water. My talk covered four categories of waste and how to deal with all of them.

The beginning category was organics, when I explained all about composting. The next was hazardous waste and I introduced it by having Sarah speak about the importance of protecting your environment. I prefaced her speech with an explanation of the increasing global awareness (and struggles) of protecting our environment. I explained that in the US there are many people who are not yet willing to make the sacrifices necessary to protect the environment.

After Sarah's talk I continued by having the participants list all the hazards that come out of their homes. In multiple instances they discovered that making the environmentally conscious choice for hazards disposal required sacrifice. For example, I told them the best way to dispose of batteries was to make a cement-lined pit that would be water tight and keep the batteries safe inside, or to reduce the amount of batteries by buying solar-powered electronics. They said both of those options are expensive. I explained how that is true everywhere.

For the time being we have agreed to collect the batteries and have them sent to a battery collection facility; if the entire community picks up their batteries. There are currently many scattered all over the place. Another area that they discovered sacrifice was in respect to insecticide. They asked how to dispose of it; I asked how it came packaged. I told them that a non-pressurized can would be much easier to dispose of than a pressurized can. They said that a pressurized can was easier to use. I reminded them that those were choices they had to make.

This was interesting in two ways. First was seeing such dilemma on their faces. It was such a similar struggle to what we deal with, which I had told them. But I truly had no idea they would find themselves in such a similar place. Second, the dilemma they seemed to find showed that they really understood the importance of what I was explaining, with respect to their water and health. It was fun to be a teacher for a day.

The second day was Sarah's day. One of her sessions was to build sieves out of screen and wood. These are used to sort material for sand filters. Each community took a turn while the others worked on preparing a community action plan. I got to man the building station. It was the best part of the workshop for me. It was an incredible bonding experience, which is actually not surprising. I finally, including all the time in the last couple of months, had a goal to share with them that was clearly physical and less mental or theoretical. We could communicate our needs by actions and went about the work each speaking our own language. No translator was needed and we all felt like we had a purpose. It was refreshing and a great bonding experience.

It took us quite a while to build the sieves, and towards the end they had already finished their community action plans. Sarah somehow got them on the topic of singing, and they all sang as we finished. I think that was Sarah's bonding. It was really nice, but I'm very glad that I didn't have to sing.

The third day we reviewed action plans and presented each participant with a certificate of participation. Josiah, an important member of SHED, and a local, presented the certificates. In his presentation, Josiah encouraged the people to share the knowledge they had learned. To do this he used an analogy: "Would you travel to collect food and eat it before getting home?" To this statement he got the loudest sound of approval that had come out of the entire workshop. It made me feel the importance of knowing the people.

Overall, I am extremely happy with the entire workshop.

Church

2007-11-26T08:29:00.000-05:00

On Sunday I was in the shower when I heard a 'hodie' at the door. 'Hodie' is what they say in place of 'knock knock.' I thought that if I ignored it it might just go away, but it came in the house. I then realized that it was the friend I had promised on Friday night that I would attend church. So I told him I was coming. I got ready in about five minutes, but it was 10:50, and he told me church started at 10. That sounds like home!!

When we got there other people were still entering, so I knew it was OK. We went in and sat down on just about the only spot left. Instantly, a little boy, about four, came up to my row and started staring at me. I got a bit nervous that others would pile around, but he turned out to be the only one. What a relief. He then moved through the aisle toward me. I made space beside me and motioned for him to sit in hopes of avoiding him standing in front of me staring through the entire thing. He sat next to me and I smiled at him several times. After a while he got brave and started poking at my arm and playing with my fingers. I did my best to not distract him, but divert his attention forward so as to not frustrate the over-controlling old man on the other side of him.

The child was adorable. He had on a bright green dress shirt and a tie that matched surprisingly well. I really thought nothing could match the shirt. The tie was shiny and new, and it came down past his knees. The old man next to him had a tattered tie, and I couldn't help but think that the child would someday be the old man, wearing the same tie he had had since he was three. I don't know what that says about me and my perspective, maybe I still have some sort of pity for people here. Maybe I am in awe of everyone's ability to be resourceful and I give them a lot of credit for it, or maybe a million other things. For some reason I feel guilt about the thought, but can't help sharing it. Whatever the case, that was the cutest kid I saw all day, and I wish I had taken a picture.

The service was nice with lots of singing, but like my Engineers Without Borders experience at church, the preaching was much too loud. Fortunately this time only one person yelled at a time. Contrary to the preacher and translator simultaneously yelling, such as we experienced in March.

After the service I asked my friend, Ausubuhi, if he went to church every week. He said, "Yes, do you?" When I said no he asked why not. He really doesn't seek that much English, but still more than I speak Swahili, so I just left the subject. Especially after such a nice service I didn't feel the same things that I normally feel about religion.

Later in the day he told Sara, who was able to translate just right, how happy he was that I went to church with him. That made me feel sort of weird and happy at the same time. It was nice to know that I could do something so simple to make someone so happy, and it was weird that it was over religion.

I think overall, for speaking no Swahili and being around people that speak so little English, I have done a lot of, mostly successful, communicating. For me it's interesting to notice the things that are communicated without words. When they are mixed with words, the weight they carry is not as noticeable, but when that's all I have, I know that everything I have communicated in the last several weeks (not to everyone, just a couple of friends) has been non-verbal.

Surprise Party

2007-11-25T10:30:00.000-05:00

We decided that on Friday we were going to throw a surprise birthday party for a friend. We had asked several weeks ago, and it turned out to be this Monday. Many older people in the area don't know in what year they were born, let alone the day, and some younger ones don't know the day. So birthdays are not the same here and definitely not celebrated. But Sara thought it would be great, and really wanted to do it.

We ordered food from the hotel, and had a great plan worked out for the surprise. I thought the plan was going to fall apart up until the last minute, but it all turned out perfectly - except after the surprise he was totally confused. It took a long time to explain to him that it was a birthday party, and a surprise at that, for him. As Sara put it, "He had no idea we were throwing him a surprise party, even after the surprise."

He then said that he needed to shower and change. Sara sent his best friend with him to make sure he didn't take too long, but I think it was also to make sure he came back. We ended up not eating until 10pm. It had taken almost two hours longer than planned to get them here.

Cutting the cake was also an experience. The cake was in a square pan, and he took a piece almost out of the middle (it was touching one edge). At first I thought people were being hard on him, but then they showed him how to cut it - make all the lines one way, then all the lines the other way, and take pieces starting in the corner. I agree that is definitely the only way to do it; in the end his was pretty goofy. It was a fun night, even if the surprise party was awkward.

On Saturday we relaxed and went on a walk up the nearby large hill. We sunned ourselves on a rock at the top because it was so cloudy there was no way we could get sunburned. It was a nice little amount of exercise, and better than a trip to the gym in many ways. Heading back we made it almost home, but stopped in town to buy avocados. There we ran into Sara's dad, who gave us a ride home. Just in time too; the second we got home it poured.