tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14586542701657159602024-03-13T08:03:58.950-07:00The Peace CorpseA memoirAndyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09727644316245631920noreply@blogger.comBlogger19125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1458654270165715960.post-29325839077788089402011-07-16T01:48:00.000-07:002011-07-16T07:13:27.716-07:00A Thousand WordsThey say a picture is worth a thousand words. But who are "they" and why is it a thousand, exactly?<br />
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I thought it would be a cool thing to post 100 pictures here on the blog as a complement to my book, which is just shy of 100,000 words. But I didn't think my cunning plan all the way through, because while I posted the pictures in chronological order, the blog posts now appear in <i>reverse</i> chronological order, starting with the end of my service and ending with me first joining the Peace Corps.<br />
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So in order to remedy that, I've added links to the bottom of each post. If you want to see all the pictures in their proper sequence, just follow the links. Starting with this one:<br />
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<a href="http://thepeacecorpse.blogspot.com/2011/07/thousand-words-part-1-staging-and.html">- A Thousand Words (Part 1: Staging and training) -</a><br />
Andyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09727644316245631920noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1458654270165715960.post-13910753054592133542011-07-16T00:20:00.000-07:002011-07-16T07:12:38.591-07:00A Thousand Words (Part 17: Closing Words)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div>These are just some assorted pictures from my final days in Korogwe.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-FX0ECfNFzJo/TiE58UTjWtI/AAAAAAAAAM0/YwWYeDxdalc/s1600/scan0161+a0+-+poppa+Sumra.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="241" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-FX0ECfNFzJo/TiE58UTjWtI/AAAAAAAAAM0/YwWYeDxdalc/s320/scan0161+a0+-+poppa+Sumra.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">This is Abdul, a sage-like shop owner who occasionally imparted words of wisdom. Yeah, sometimes people like that turn up even in true stories.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-06-PFwKHm1c/TiE594FU2BI/AAAAAAAAAM4/lnTeSYsWqTU/s1600/scan0161+a2+-+Grad+01+Teachers+in+Staff+Room.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="241" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-06-PFwKHm1c/TiE594FU2BI/AAAAAAAAAM4/lnTeSYsWqTU/s320/scan0161+a2+-+Grad+01+Teachers+in+Staff+Room.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">Some of my fellow teachers in the staff room</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Mid-bh4kje4/TiE6ARrmggI/AAAAAAAAAM8/mqtKeFtq_h0/s1600/scan0161a1a+-+Incinerator.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="241" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Mid-bh4kje4/TiE6ARrmggI/AAAAAAAAAM8/mqtKeFtq_h0/s320/scan0161a1a+-+Incinerator.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">The incinerator I built for the school. Well, I didn't actually build it myself, but I was the one who wrote the grant to secure the funding for it.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-QGUwyaL2lBQ/TiE6B2F2feI/AAAAAAAAANA/CIGtn7cea0Q/s1600/scan0161a+-+Farewell+07+My+Speech.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="241" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-QGUwyaL2lBQ/TiE6B2F2feI/AAAAAAAAANA/CIGtn7cea0Q/s320/scan0161a+-+Farewell+07+My+Speech.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">The farewell party.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-82wBN439t00/TiE6D4Q60CI/AAAAAAAAANE/UbfkhPny1IE/s1600/scan0168.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-82wBN439t00/TiE6D4Q60CI/AAAAAAAAANE/UbfkhPny1IE/s320/scan0168.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">But my students weren't satisfied with the 'official' farewell party, so they threw me another one at their own expense. That was <i>really</i> touching.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ic_fuoSOVkM/TiE6FkjlUnI/AAAAAAAAANI/Jvt2sjur8xg/s1600/scan0171.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ic_fuoSOVkM/TiE6FkjlUnI/AAAAAAAAANI/Jvt2sjur8xg/s320/scan0171.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">Except for the part where they made me wear the silly hat.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-_8oy88zQt90/TiE56dPYv8I/AAAAAAAAAMw/lHYF0p2RkbQ/s1600/scan0177.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="199" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-_8oy88zQt90/TiE56dPYv8I/AAAAAAAAAMw/lHYF0p2RkbQ/s320/scan0177.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">And finally, my favorite picture from Tanzania. I don't know if you can see it, but I'm holding a Sprite. "You too can look like me, just hold a Sprite"? Yeah, not so much.<br />
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</div>Andyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09727644316245631920noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1458654270165715960.post-77065256737035385902011-07-16T00:09:00.000-07:002011-07-16T07:12:16.160-07:00A Thousand Words (Part 16: Uganda and the White Nile)I swear I did do a lot of teaching, but it's not like I took pictures of my students on a daily basis. But here's one:<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-KRs8gwFRO_M/TiE1qOGdGfI/AAAAAAAAAMQ/e_olCsn2ChI/s1600/scan0150.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="207" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-KRs8gwFRO_M/TiE1qOGdGfI/AAAAAAAAAMQ/e_olCsn2ChI/s320/scan0150.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">We took the students on a field trip to the coast so they could see examples of erosion, or something. Was it educational? Probably not. Was it entertaining? For me it was, definitely.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-OjjZqg1-SQg/TiE1sG0e52I/AAAAAAAAAMU/-m-CUKcFo4s/s1600/scan0153.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="178" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-OjjZqg1-SQg/TiE1sG0e52I/AAAAAAAAAMU/-m-CUKcFo4s/s320/scan0153.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">Aaaand back to traveling. This was on a ferry across Lake Victoria.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-MhUKI7Fq9eI/TiE1tJeu3YI/AAAAAAAAAMY/y2HgeY-mjzw/s1600/scan0153a+-+Nile+Rafting+045.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-MhUKI7Fq9eI/TiE1tJeu3YI/AAAAAAAAAMY/y2HgeY-mjzw/s320/scan0153a+-+Nile+Rafting+045.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">Bungee jumping over the White Nile. Never again.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-A25CG1P7cOU/TiE1uQ2pe6I/AAAAAAAAAMc/EgVw1VRaXN4/s1600/scan0153a+-+Nile+Rafting+051.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-A25CG1P7cOU/TiE1uQ2pe6I/AAAAAAAAAMc/EgVw1VRaXN4/s320/scan0153a+-+Nile+Rafting+051.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">Whitewater rafting on the Nile was pretty cool though</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-194D2Hir7Qk/TiE1xW_ixKI/AAAAAAAAAMo/PKK2fyF2pFA/s1600/scan0153a+-+Nile+Rafting+119.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-194D2Hir7Qk/TiE1xW_ixKI/AAAAAAAAAMo/PKK2fyF2pFA/s320/scan0153a+-+Nile+Rafting+119.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-VajFgHeR7Qg/TiE1vUqDe6I/AAAAAAAAAMg/jIIgXDKSXLc/s1600/scan0153a+-+Nile+Rafting+097.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-VajFgHeR7Qg/TiE1vUqDe6I/AAAAAAAAAMg/jIIgXDKSXLc/s320/scan0153a+-+Nile+Rafting+097.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-3dmQSJymfec/TiE1wX8VaBI/AAAAAAAAAMk/ddYo16y3Nfc/s1600/scan0153a+-+Nile+Rafting+098.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-3dmQSJymfec/TiE1wX8VaBI/AAAAAAAAAMk/ddYo16y3Nfc/s320/scan0153a+-+Nile+Rafting+098.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">Yeah, that's me.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-KkjV_jmZcYI/TiE1y4fhfnI/AAAAAAAAAMs/NKHUuXQeaqc/s1600/scan0157.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="192" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-KkjV_jmZcYI/TiE1y4fhfnI/AAAAAAAAAMs/NKHUuXQeaqc/s320/scan0157.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">After the rafting, two of us decided to climb Mt. Elgon.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-3ySY7G8Qz4g/TiE1o0psioI/AAAAAAAAAMM/TXfvFHOjebc/s1600/scan0160.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="197" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-3ySY7G8Qz4g/TiE1o0psioI/AAAAAAAAAMM/TXfvFHOjebc/s320/scan0160.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">Mt. Elgon is also colorfully known as "Ebola Mountain", due to the fact that someone contracted Ebola from a cave on the mountain. And where were we camping when this picture was taken? That's right, in a cave.<br />
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<div style="text-align: left;"><a href="http://thepeacecorpse.blogspot.com/2011/07/thousand-words-part-17-closing-words.html">- A Thousand Words (Part 17: Closing Words) -</a> </div><div style="text-align: left;"> </div></div>Andyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09727644316245631920noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1458654270165715960.post-14294502582951723482011-07-15T23:40:00.000-07:002011-07-16T07:11:17.458-07:00A Thousand Words (Part 15: Victoria Falls)But yeah, I did take a lot of vacations.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-zkBtyoLkeWc/TiExmccxnII/AAAAAAAAAMA/HIAzZ7lIAqU/s1600/scan0143.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-zkBtyoLkeWc/TiExmccxnII/AAAAAAAAAMA/HIAzZ7lIAqU/s320/scan0143.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">highest waterfalls in Africa</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-5nakkuT4ecg/TiExoGAYvyI/AAAAAAAAAME/ROGK_jSftEk/s1600/scan0144.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-5nakkuT4ecg/TiExoGAYvyI/AAAAAAAAAME/ROGK_jSftEk/s320/scan0144.jpg" width="228" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">I didn't get any pictures of it, but the three of us went on a kayaking trip down the Zambezi river beneath the falls. It was pretty fantastic.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-YRAj1bJ2d1k/TiExr53E3yI/AAAAAAAAAMI/y1UKt1av7D4/s1600/scan0145.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="201" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-YRAj1bJ2d1k/TiExr53E3yI/AAAAAAAAAMI/y1UKt1av7D4/s320/scan0145.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">The girls didn't come kayaking. I have no idea what they did while we were on the river.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-INIGK0I-9gs/TiExjk2Z1aI/AAAAAAAAAL8/rAydeyGbsxo/s1600/scan0148.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="204" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-INIGK0I-9gs/TiExjk2Z1aI/AAAAAAAAAL8/rAydeyGbsxo/s320/scan0148.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">We also got to see rhinos. The park rangers actually cut the horns off the rhinos so that poachers won't kill them. Pretty sad.<br />
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<div style="text-align: left;"><a href="http://thepeacecorpse.blogspot.com/2011/07/thousand-words-part-16-uganda-and-white.html">- A Thousand Words (Part 16: Uganda and the White Nile) -</a> </div><div style="text-align: left;"> </div></div>Andyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09727644316245631920noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1458654270165715960.post-87990629520231846142011-07-15T23:27:00.000-07:002011-07-16T07:09:33.731-07:00A Thousand Words (Part 14: More Travels around Tanzania)I really did take my teaching seriously, but when the school was on vacation I went on vacation too.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-o1rUW2LZbMA/TiEtxbaxyCI/AAAAAAAAALo/Dz-zg8lx5Uo/s1600/scan0132nc.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="108" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-o1rUW2LZbMA/TiEtxbaxyCI/AAAAAAAAALo/Dz-zg8lx5Uo/s320/scan0132nc.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">After Kilimanjaro I brought my parents back to my place, just so they could see where I lived and what it was like. We didn't stay long.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-sfq4sZ7AGFY/TiEtyTp90pI/AAAAAAAAALs/w6raGi3kyoo/s1600/scan0132nh.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="206" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-sfq4sZ7AGFY/TiEtyTp90pI/AAAAAAAAALs/w6raGi3kyoo/s320/scan0132nh.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">One of the places I took them was Pemba. Pemba is like Zanzibar, but less touristy. It also has the highest concentration of Al Qaeda in East Africa. Which is probably why it's less touristy.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-b2Ckdsdcil0/TiEtz9ZeWSI/AAAAAAAAALw/ES4EBiCyNHE/s1600/scan0132nzd.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="103" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-b2Ckdsdcil0/TiEtz9ZeWSI/AAAAAAAAALw/ES4EBiCyNHE/s320/scan0132nzd.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">I also took my parents to the Usamabara Mountains to admire the view and meet Aaron and Erin</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-4QfYLRMzRtw/TiEt1DrQhyI/AAAAAAAAAL0/PtJoUrEy4Cg/s1600/scan0132nzf.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="104" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-4QfYLRMzRtw/TiEt1DrQhyI/AAAAAAAAAL0/PtJoUrEy4Cg/s320/scan0132nzf.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">I think they liked it</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-_uxKAruVx3c/TiEt18vXoBI/AAAAAAAAAL4/1r7oH7M3lmw/s1600/scan0134l.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-_uxKAruVx3c/TiEt18vXoBI/AAAAAAAAAL4/1r7oH7M3lmw/s320/scan0134l.jpg" width="218" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">This is back in Arusha. I always found this sign hilarious because it's a scene of utter chaos, with the caption "Under Control"</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-DB5XSL8SMFQ/TiEtvsSACsI/AAAAAAAAALk/qMUly8lu2u4/s1600/scan0136.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="204" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-DB5XSL8SMFQ/TiEtvsSACsI/AAAAAAAAALk/qMUly8lu2u4/s320/scan0136.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">This is a tea plantation next to the Amani Forest Reserve. Who knew tea could be so pretty? I sure didn't.<br />
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<div style="text-align: left;"><a href="http://thepeacecorpse.blogspot.com/2011/07/thousand-words-part-15-vicoria-falls.html">- A Thousand Words (Part 15: Victoria Falls) -</a> </div><div style="text-align: left;"> </div></div>Andyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09727644316245631920noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1458654270165715960.post-39941401142218944332011-07-15T22:36:00.000-07:002011-07-16T07:08:37.708-07:00A Thousand Words (Part 13: Kilimanjaro)At 5,895 meters (19,341 feet) above sea level, Kilimanjaro is the tallest mountain in Africa. And yes, it's in Tanzania. A lot of people seem to think it's in Kenya, for some reason. Apparently it was given to Tanzania by the British as a sort of 'consolation prize', or something.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> <a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-3SCW-J2mj00/TiEgbycB8iI/AAAAAAAAAK4/kqcJyWTOFZ8/s1600/scan0132ma+-+KD1+-+parents.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="214" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-3SCW-J2mj00/TiEgbycB8iI/AAAAAAAAAK4/kqcJyWTOFZ8/s320/scan0132ma+-+KD1+-+parents.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">One of the coolest things about Kilimanjaro is that you go through so many different types of climates as you ascend the mountain. At the base it's a rain forest. And yes, those are my parents.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-U0iYdeo2OF0/TiEgcyX0K2I/AAAAAAAAAK8/kUcba8JP2WA/s1600/scan0132ma+-+KD2+-+me+mom+and+meru.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="95" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-U0iYdeo2OF0/TiEgcyX0K2I/AAAAAAAAAK8/kUcba8JP2WA/s320/scan0132ma+-+KD2+-+me+mom+and+meru.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">me and my mom, with Mt. Meru in the distance</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-cpMz70wMBWM/TiEgdkYaHiI/AAAAAAAAALA/JgF6qcrDYDs/s1600/scan0132ma+-+KD2+-+Shira+Campsite.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-cpMz70wMBWM/TiEgdkYaHiI/AAAAAAAAALA/JgF6qcrDYDs/s320/scan0132ma+-+KD2+-+Shira+Campsite.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">Our camp on day two, with the peak in the background. Kilimanjaro is not a technical climb, but because you start at nearly sea level and end at nearly 6,000 meters, it helps if you spread the trip out over 5-7 days. We took 7.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-mMHOqXeZ2a8/TiEgfmrMaBI/AAAAAAAAALE/KK-nl8hKdvY/s1600/scan0132ma+-+KD3+-+Or+a+Flower.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="241" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-mMHOqXeZ2a8/TiEgfmrMaBI/AAAAAAAAALE/KK-nl8hKdvY/s320/scan0132ma+-+KD3+-+Or+a+Flower.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">there's some strange vegetation up there</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-fpEph1LCwqA/TiEgguq1AMI/AAAAAAAAALI/hKIcaTJ_OBk/s1600/scan0132ma+-+KD3+-+Top+and+Mist.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="238" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-fpEph1LCwqA/TiEgguq1AMI/AAAAAAAAALI/hKIcaTJ_OBk/s320/scan0132ma+-+KD3+-+Top+and+Mist.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">I just think this is a cool picture</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-I2flfZpaSBY/TiEgjAMRl1I/AAAAAAAAALQ/NideVCNVqTc/s1600/scan0132ma+-+KD5+-+mom+going+up.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="105" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-I2flfZpaSBY/TiEgjAMRl1I/AAAAAAAAALQ/NideVCNVqTc/s320/scan0132ma+-+KD5+-+mom+going+up.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">the day we summited was pretty miserable. Cold, lack of sleep, lack of oxygen, etc.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-JjievXrf0GQ/TiEgkewRcII/AAAAAAAAALU/TK_UwlBi7f8/s1600/scan0132ma+-+KD5+-+resting3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="91" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-JjievXrf0GQ/TiEgkewRcII/AAAAAAAAALU/TK_UwlBi7f8/s320/scan0132ma+-+KD5+-+resting3.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">Mom and her "helpers"</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-940l5vxO-ac/TiEglNGxsFI/AAAAAAAAALY/3lkdYxkSc-g/s1600/scan0132ma+-+KD5+-+snow+angel.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-940l5vxO-ac/TiEglNGxsFI/AAAAAAAAALY/3lkdYxkSc-g/s320/scan0132ma+-+KD5+-+snow+angel.jpg" width="203" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">the technical term for this is High-Altitude Cerebral Edema</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-sRWk2BfRCoE/TiEgl68mIXI/AAAAAAAAALc/xoYpxLN1bT4/s1600/scan0132ma+-+KD5+-+Top2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="208" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-sRWk2BfRCoE/TiEgl68mIXI/AAAAAAAAALc/xoYpxLN1bT4/s320/scan0132ma+-+KD5+-+Top2.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">but we made it</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-1cKN5IChEe0/TiEgm8CQjxI/AAAAAAAAALg/jrJhWYEDSqY/s1600/scan0132ma+-+KD6+-+camp.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="210" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-1cKN5IChEe0/TiEgm8CQjxI/AAAAAAAAALg/jrJhWYEDSqY/s320/scan0132ma+-+KD6+-+camp.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">final campsite</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-n05uBjeVlJ4/TiEgay8DqeI/AAAAAAAAAK0/d8zOvUSCPIE/s1600/scan0132ma+-+KD7+-+group.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="108" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-n05uBjeVlJ4/TiEgay8DqeI/AAAAAAAAAK0/d8zOvUSCPIE/s320/scan0132ma+-+KD7+-+group.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">took us 5 days to go up, but only 2 to come down. And man, once you get back to lower altitudes and you suddenly have all that oxygen, it feels <i>awesome</i>.<br />
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<div style="text-align: left;"><a href="http://thepeacecorpse.blogspot.com/2011/07/thousand-words-part-14-more-travels.html">- A Thousand Words (Part 14: More Travels around Tanzania) -</a> </div><div style="text-align: left;"> </div></div>Andyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09727644316245631920noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1458654270165715960.post-3677792040827806162011-07-15T21:58:00.000-07:002011-07-16T07:07:32.118-07:00A Thousand Words (Part 12: Usambara Mountains)The Usambara Mountains were a miserable 2-hour bus ride from my place, but they were totally worth the trip. Where Korogwe was hot and sticky almost year-round, the Usambaras were always cool and pleasant. Plus, my three closest friends in the Peace Corps lived up there.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/--cY9nb6ekY4/TiEZiu_oewI/AAAAAAAAAKY/hvKmKS9Hn7U/s1600/scan0132m.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="216" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/--cY9nb6ekY4/TiEZiu_oewI/AAAAAAAAAKY/hvKmKS9Hn7U/s320/scan0132m.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">the Usambaras on the map (thanks Erin!)</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-mfSLVX3VGoM/TiEZkSpPQdI/AAAAAAAAAKc/hz2r-zoAKhE/s1600/scan0114.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-mfSLVX3VGoM/TiEZkSpPQdI/AAAAAAAAAKc/hz2r-zoAKhE/s320/scan0114.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">Aaron's house. Comfortably lacking things like electricity, running water, and any nearby source of food.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-gDLn8C1TyEs/TiEZmWsAlmI/AAAAAAAAAKg/zJzAGn3ds68/s1600/scan0123.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="228" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-gDLn8C1TyEs/TiEZmWsAlmI/AAAAAAAAAKg/zJzAGn3ds68/s320/scan0123.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">Aaron and Erin</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div style="text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-7wblzLBmDsU/TiEZn6D1gTI/AAAAAAAAAKo/8p6dAyEQFwo/s1600/scan0123c+-+lushoto+market.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="217" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-7wblzLBmDsU/TiEZn6D1gTI/AAAAAAAAAKo/8p6dAyEQFwo/s320/scan0123c+-+lushoto+market.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">the Lushoto market</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-0v1X0Q_Q7jA/TiEZnN-PaWI/AAAAAAAAAKk/AO7uTSqgkBk/s1600/scan0123a+-+backfrommarket.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="242" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-0v1X0Q_Q7jA/TiEZnN-PaWI/AAAAAAAAAKk/AO7uTSqgkBk/s320/scan0123a+-+backfrommarket.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">coming back from the market</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-3G-W_bi9Mk0/TiEZqsD8LcI/AAAAAAAAAKs/YZhVzQn_Je0/s1600/scan0129.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="205" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-3G-W_bi9Mk0/TiEZqsD8LcI/AAAAAAAAAKs/YZhVzQn_Je0/s320/scan0129.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">Aaron was pretty much the one who kept me sane. Well, he tried to, anyway.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-zgjego0dJTk/TiEZsVJIQ4I/AAAAAAAAAKw/jMbDoy-hJEc/s1600/scan0130.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="204" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-zgjego0dJTk/TiEZsVJIQ4I/AAAAAAAAAKw/jMbDoy-hJEc/s320/scan0130.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">I'd explain what's going on in this picture, but that would give too much away.<br />
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<div style="text-align: left;"><a href="http://thepeacecorpse.blogspot.com/2011/07/thousand-words-part-13-kilimanjaro.html">- A Thousand Words (Part 13: Kilimanjaro) -</a> </div><div style="text-align: left;"> </div></div>Andyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09727644316245631920noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1458654270165715960.post-37751577738992869562011-07-15T20:52:00.000-07:002011-07-16T07:06:38.884-07:00A Thousand Words (Part 11: Teaching and Partying)I didn't have a lot of classes to teach my first semester at Korogwe Girls Secondary School, so I spent a lot of time traveling around Tanzania, visiting other Volunteers.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-xCzKYdc0CNY/TiEJ2iFbrQI/AAAAAAAAAKE/yfB5qfki8I8/s1600/scan0106.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-xCzKYdc0CNY/TiEJ2iFbrQI/AAAAAAAAAKE/yfB5qfki8I8/s320/scan0106.jpg" width="213" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">climbing the hill behind my house with the neighbor kids</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-fwVulweQ00E/TiEJxu0YAzI/AAAAAAAAAJ8/MBwHO2B2ZRo/s1600/scan0103.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="202" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-fwVulweQ00E/TiEJxu0YAzI/AAAAAAAAAJ8/MBwHO2B2ZRo/s320/scan0103.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">first day of classes</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-sGWJQ58oH88/TiEJz2vELJI/AAAAAAAAAKA/BD0eHEwJsj4/s1600/scan0104.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="199" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-sGWJQ58oH88/TiEJz2vELJI/AAAAAAAAAKA/BD0eHEwJsj4/s320/scan0104.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">my students</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-mvMstZbkKvE/TiEJ4Ri7cVI/AAAAAAAAAKI/b7Fi0klsRbY/s1600/scan0106b.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="206" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-mvMstZbkKvE/TiEJ4Ri7cVI/AAAAAAAAAKI/b7Fi0klsRbY/s320/scan0106b.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">Sharon's birthday. Yes, this is what I meant by "partying"</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-E7KD9ySIJlI/TiEJ5FXHcLI/AAAAAAAAAKM/s21BWpVjp1w/s1600/scan0108a+-+ubungo+dar.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="214" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-E7KD9ySIJlI/TiEJ5FXHcLI/AAAAAAAAAKM/s21BWpVjp1w/s320/scan0108a+-+ubungo+dar.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">traveling by bus was always an adventure</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-A-Y8fg_GyVM/TiEJvVcOZZI/AAAAAAAAAJ4/tCjTEyHCDXc/s1600/scan0102.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="171" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-A-Y8fg_GyVM/TiEJvVcOZZI/AAAAAAAAAJ4/tCjTEyHCDXc/s320/scan0102.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">New Year's 2003 we went to the beach in Tanga</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-JaERq3UeOYc/TiEJ68vbXoI/AAAAAAAAAKQ/LuyhCYmaMQk/s1600/scan0109.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="194" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-JaERq3UeOYc/TiEJ68vbXoI/AAAAAAAAAKQ/LuyhCYmaMQk/s320/scan0109.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">Dodoma, the political capital of the country</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-fAzzoR4-LH8/TiEJ8fJ75XI/AAAAAAAAAKU/elHrNAZ69hU/s1600/scan0110.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="203" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-fAzzoR4-LH8/TiEJ8fJ75XI/AAAAAAAAAKU/elHrNAZ69hU/s320/scan0110.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">a pretty typical Peace Corps party. Honestly, we needed these parties to share stories and normalize our experience.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-no_-MfF3B88/TiEJt9VGDNI/AAAAAAAAAJ0/YzGga4_AmjU/s1600/scan0111a+-+stephanspancakes02.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-no_-MfF3B88/TiEJt9VGDNI/AAAAAAAAAJ0/YzGga4_AmjU/s320/scan0111a+-+stephanspancakes02.jpg" width="214" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">Awesome pancakes!<br />
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<div style="text-align: left;"><a href="http://thepeacecorpse.blogspot.com/2011/07/thousand-words-part-12-usambara.html">- A Thousand Words (Part 12: Usambara Mountains) -</a> </div><div style="text-align: left;"> </div></div>Andyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09727644316245631920noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1458654270165715960.post-32293571050325953612011-07-15T20:25:00.000-07:002011-07-16T07:05:38.301-07:00A Thousand Words (Part 10: Wildlife IN my house)Snakes, lizards, rats, cockroaches, and VERY large spiders shared my home with me.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-QUs2wZbK-8g/TiEEKamzpKI/AAAAAAAAAJo/DXj-gAurukk/s1600/scan0094.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-QUs2wZbK-8g/TiEEKamzpKI/AAAAAAAAAJo/DXj-gAurukk/s320/scan0094.jpg" width="213" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">the snake I killed with a rock</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-tFk3t1B2zbY/TiEELrvstVI/AAAAAAAAAJs/3dCn9LUkc-o/s1600/scan0097.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="214" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-tFk3t1B2zbY/TiEELrvstVI/AAAAAAAAAJs/3dCn9LUkc-o/s320/scan0097.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">spider one</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-QXtpp4faHVM/TiEEMQefj2I/AAAAAAAAAJw/KSW81k90jLs/s1600/scan0097b+-+spider2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-QXtpp4faHVM/TiEEMQefj2I/AAAAAAAAAJw/KSW81k90jLs/s320/scan0097b+-+spider2.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">spider two</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-N8AH-wCR1DQ/TiEEIc-JUNI/AAAAAAAAAJk/LR3oKv9-UZg/s1600/scan0097g+-+Tarantula3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="241" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-N8AH-wCR1DQ/TiEEIc-JUNI/AAAAAAAAAJk/LR3oKv9-UZg/s320/scan0097g+-+Tarantula3.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">spider three. I actually kinda liked this guy for some reason.<br />
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<div style="text-align: left;"><a href="http://thepeacecorpse.blogspot.com/2011/07/thousand-words-part-11-teaching-and.html">- A Thousand Words (Part 11: Teaching and Partying) -</a> </div><div style="text-align: left;"> </div></div>Andyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09727644316245631920noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1458654270165715960.post-59122882151430225972011-07-15T20:05:00.000-07:002011-07-16T07:04:34.180-07:00A Thousand Words (Part 9: My House)My lovely home.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-L3P9aRKBW_U/TiD_UrYh7tI/AAAAAAAAAJQ/KHVuzm8Iwrg/s1600/scan0081c+-+My+House+%2528front%2529.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="241" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-L3P9aRKBW_U/TiD_UrYh7tI/AAAAAAAAAJQ/KHVuzm8Iwrg/s320/scan0081c+-+My+House+%2528front%2529.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">Ah, so many horrifying memories</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-yk9oOWGkxRI/TiD_Wv3IWuI/AAAAAAAAAJU/rSeqblPGGqc/s1600/scan0085.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="202" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-yk9oOWGkxRI/TiD_Wv3IWuI/AAAAAAAAAJU/rSeqblPGGqc/s320/scan0085.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">kitchen</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-vpZShZYQ6i8/TiD_YjhfHgI/AAAAAAAAAJY/W3ReZYoaBo8/s1600/scan0087a+-+Bafu.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-vpZShZYQ6i8/TiD_YjhfHgI/AAAAAAAAAJY/W3ReZYoaBo8/s320/scan0087a+-+Bafu.JPG" width="241" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">shower room</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Xd8adzlXsDk/TiD_ar8qgnI/AAAAAAAAAJc/8SlQ2Cld_zs/s1600/scan0088a+-+Choo.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="241" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Xd8adzlXsDk/TiD_ar8qgnI/AAAAAAAAAJc/8SlQ2Cld_zs/s320/scan0088a+-+Choo.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">at least I did have a Western-style toilet</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-M6pEikOVeB0/TiD_cI-9kaI/AAAAAAAAAJg/V6p1nWu6fi0/s1600/scan0090.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="202" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-M6pEikOVeB0/TiD_cI-9kaI/AAAAAAAAAJg/V6p1nWu6fi0/s320/scan0090.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">bedroom</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Hzl7erurVYk/TiD_SpmmQ4I/AAAAAAAAAJM/TnP2QXuEjD4/s1600/scan0093c+-+Neighbor+kids+%2526+bike.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="241" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Hzl7erurVYk/TiD_SpmmQ4I/AAAAAAAAAJM/TnP2QXuEjD4/s320/scan0093c+-+Neighbor+kids+%2526+bike.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">neighbor kids with my bike.<br />
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<div style="text-align: left;"><a href="http://thepeacecorpse.blogspot.com/2011/07/thousand-words-part-10-wildlife-in-my.html">- A Thousand Words (Part 10: Wildlife IN My House) -</a></div><div style="text-align: left;"> </div></div>Andyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09727644316245631920noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1458654270165715960.post-41968278290770796042011-07-15T19:55:00.000-07:002011-07-16T07:03:31.567-07:00A Thousand Words (Part 8: My School)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I taught A-level chemistry for two years at Korogwe Girls Secondary School, one of the best all-girls schools in the nation.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-8uDqwzsdwRc/TiD8klz-hwI/AAAAAAAAAJE/3xPGcXugzVk/s1600/scan0080a.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="122" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-8uDqwzsdwRc/TiD8klz-hwI/AAAAAAAAAJE/3xPGcXugzVk/s320/scan0080a.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">the classrooms</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-lr4Bg0RtRIg/TiD8f1T1O7I/AAAAAAAAAJA/6uinxfVpy4I/s1600/scan0080.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="198" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-lr4Bg0RtRIg/TiD8f1T1O7I/AAAAAAAAAJA/6uinxfVpy4I/s320/scan0080.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">the dormitories</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-gTYPrYTY98k/TiD8l9zIbfI/AAAAAAAAAJI/tX0l59gBk2Y/s1600/scan0080f+-+Chemistry+Lab.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="241" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-gTYPrYTY98k/TiD8l9zIbfI/AAAAAAAAAJI/tX0l59gBk2Y/s320/scan0080f+-+Chemistry+Lab.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">the chemistry lab</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-yqmep_1_vB8/TiD8djTERaI/AAAAAAAAAI8/t1svii2YMo8/s1600/scan0080i+-+sink.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="241" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-yqmep_1_vB8/TiD8djTERaI/AAAAAAAAAI8/t1svii2YMo8/s320/scan0080i+-+sink.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">Yeah.<br />
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<div style="text-align: left;"><a href="http://thepeacecorpse.blogspot.com/2011/07/thousand-words-part-9-my-house.html">- A Thousand Words (Part 9: My House) - </a></div><div style="text-align: left;"> </div></div>Andyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09727644316245631920noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1458654270165715960.post-13899505282981920002011-07-15T19:39:00.000-07:002011-07-16T07:17:01.907-07:00A Thousand Words (Part 7: Site Visit and Swearing In)The animals around my site were a lot more mundane. Cows, chickens, pigs, a few cats and dogs, and oh yeah, the Black Mamba, the deadliest snake on the planet. Wonderful.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-yt9UzexcNK8/TiD5GafMCPI/AAAAAAAAAIw/iNppXMuFdoc/s1600/scan0063.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="205" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-yt9UzexcNK8/TiD5GafMCPI/AAAAAAAAAIw/iNppXMuFdoc/s320/scan0063.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">He's more crafty than he looks</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-nnll24zhIEM/TiD5ImGu1jI/AAAAAAAAAI0/bS8O0gAStkw/s1600/scan0066.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="204" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-nnll24zhIEM/TiD5ImGu1jI/AAAAAAAAAI0/bS8O0gAStkw/s320/scan0066.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">The other Volunteers in my region.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-0Ezflkdg5Fg/TiD5Kt5s08I/AAAAAAAAAI4/_MiMvVXi8X8/s1600/scan0069.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="229" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-0Ezflkdg5Fg/TiD5Kt5s08I/AAAAAAAAAI4/_MiMvVXi8X8/s320/scan0069.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">I'm pretty sure they're not actually having sex here, but this picture still makes me smile every time.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-bHsRox8VV0A/TiD5DjIe8PI/AAAAAAAAAIs/Lt4le4iesU0/s1600/scan0073.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="195" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-bHsRox8VV0A/TiD5DjIe8PI/AAAAAAAAAIs/Lt4le4iesU0/s320/scan0073.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">The Peace Corps Tanzania "class" of 2002-2004. We had to take the same oath military people take when they join the service. You'd think they'd come up with a separate "hippy" oath, but no.<br />
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<br />
<div style="text-align: left;"><a href="http://thepeacecorpse.blogspot.com/2011/07/thousand-words-part-8-my-school.html">- A Thousand Words (Part 8: My School) -</a></div><div style="text-align: left;"> </div></div>Andyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09727644316245631920noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1458654270165715960.post-21481788787488163872011-07-14T19:48:00.000-07:002011-07-16T07:16:35.999-07:00A Thousand Words (Part 6: Ngorongoro Crater)Ngorongoro Crater has pretty much all of the 'typical' African animals you might want to see, all in one convenient place. Apparently they all just hang out in this giant crater and...eat each other, I guess.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-2DY2rScopxs/Th-o9hkWIiI/AAAAAAAAAIM/pkUYJqAM3QY/s1600/scan0045.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="199" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-2DY2rScopxs/Th-o9hkWIiI/AAAAAAAAAIM/pkUYJqAM3QY/s320/scan0045.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">Lions</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Jlrn0jfuCFg/Th-pAJgLzvI/AAAAAAAAAIQ/VZx8ZsWQkqc/s1600/scan0046.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="202" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Jlrn0jfuCFg/Th-pAJgLzvI/AAAAAAAAAIQ/VZx8ZsWQkqc/s320/scan0046.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">Ostriches</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-3McOrJ6v2S4/Th-q0zms7tI/AAAAAAAAAIo/Pw-EmdKXXsc/s1600/scan0050a+-+cheetas.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="244" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-3McOrJ6v2S4/Th-q0zms7tI/AAAAAAAAAIo/Pw-EmdKXXsc/s320/scan0050a+-+cheetas.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div style="text-align: center;">Cheetah</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-L-zHO5iWfm4/Th-pFXjJSJI/AAAAAAAAAIg/z_HLBh46wXQ/s1600/scan0056a+-+elephant.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-L-zHO5iWfm4/Th-pFXjJSJI/AAAAAAAAAIg/z_HLBh46wXQ/s320/scan0056a+-+elephant.jpg" width="216" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">Elephants</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-L-WD8ZDSbAI/Th-pHet_iCI/AAAAAAAAAIk/3QTTu8TmTdE/s1600/scan0057.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="204" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-L-WD8ZDSbAI/Th-pHet_iCI/AAAAAAAAAIk/3QTTu8TmTdE/s320/scan0057.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">Assorted lion food</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/--Bk9rnmo7uw/Th-pBwHA0zI/AAAAAAAAAIY/1aRRRHiYtfs/s1600/scan0052a+-+hyena.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/--Bk9rnmo7uw/Th-pBwHA0zI/AAAAAAAAAIY/1aRRRHiYtfs/s320/scan0052a+-+hyena.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"> Hyena</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Lld5mkuq67s/Th-o78DD8sI/AAAAAAAAAII/aMv9lYIOAYU/s1600/scan0058.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="203" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Lld5mkuq67s/Th-o78DD8sI/AAAAAAAAAII/aMv9lYIOAYU/s320/scan0058.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">Hippos</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-5fYZBXVpoGs/Th-pEseolCI/AAAAAAAAAIc/Yrn-6Tjx-Uk/s1600/scan0054.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="199" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-5fYZBXVpoGs/Th-pEseolCI/AAAAAAAAAIc/Yrn-6Tjx-Uk/s320/scan0054.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">And, of course, tourists (more lion food).<br />
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<div style="text-align: left;"><a href="http://thepeacecorpse.blogspot.com/2011/07/thousand-words-part-7-site-visit-and.html">- A Thousand Words (Part 7: Site Visit and Swearing In) -</a></div><div style="text-align: left;"> </div></div><span id="goog_1835985832"></span><span id="goog_1835985833"></span>Andyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09727644316245631920noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1458654270165715960.post-81712729612205284852011-07-14T00:17:00.000-07:002011-07-16T07:16:09.183-07:00A Thousand Words (Part 5: Ilboru Secondary School)I went to Tanzania to be a teacher, so as part of my training they had me teach at Ilboru Secondary school, the second best school in the country.<br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ETcO8fdjBtE/Th57ArA1ISI/AAAAAAAAAH8/Ngl_mZvqQ3c/s1600/scan0037.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="187" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ETcO8fdjBtE/Th57ArA1ISI/AAAAAAAAAH8/Ngl_mZvqQ3c/s320/scan0037.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Yep, that's what the second best school in the country looks like.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-LKr0M3nTjxE/Th57CWR-VwI/AAAAAAAAAIA/fpXW1k9Kotc/s1600/scan0039.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="197" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-LKr0M3nTjxE/Th57CWR-VwI/AAAAAAAAAIA/fpXW1k9Kotc/s320/scan0039.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">The classroom.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-8y4MWhIwiKw/Th57Eq-X2AI/AAAAAAAAAIE/6PH0B-dguxM/s1600/scan0040.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="201" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-8y4MWhIwiKw/Th57Eq-X2AI/AAAAAAAAAIE/6PH0B-dguxM/s320/scan0040.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">The students.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ZSaEQYYdDAk/Th56-wU-0fI/AAAAAAAAAH4/NdhXUW6WhTM/s1600/scan0042.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ZSaEQYYdDAk/Th56-wU-0fI/AAAAAAAAAH4/NdhXUW6WhTM/s320/scan0042.jpg" width="221" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">Not from Ilboru but I just think this is funny.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="http://thepeacecorpse.blogspot.com/2011/07/thousand-words-part-6-ngorongoro-crater.html">- A Thousand Words (Part 6: Ngorongoro Crater) -</a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div>Andyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09727644316245631920noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1458654270165715960.post-29248595888028196032011-07-13T20:25:00.000-07:002011-07-16T07:15:40.936-07:00A Thousand Words (Part 4: Monduli)Around Arusha they have fake Maasai villages that tourists can go to. I didn't want to do that, so I ended up going with this guy Vincent to his home to see how people actually live when they're not just acting for foreigners.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-iepHW2e55z4/Th5gQImlQXI/AAAAAAAAAHk/g65RzNyFeU0/s1600/scan0036g.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="215" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-iepHW2e55z4/Th5gQImlQXI/AAAAAAAAAHk/g65RzNyFeU0/s320/scan0036g.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"> They made me dress up like this. I didn't really want to.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-KWmBWPrcw9k/Th5gSW069cI/AAAAAAAAAHo/Ks-9LcgZkI4/s1600/scan0032.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="201" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-KWmBWPrcw9k/Th5gSW069cI/AAAAAAAAAHo/Ks-9LcgZkI4/s320/scan0032.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"> The house.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-dq8ZkZcqz68/Th5gUOrwkxI/AAAAAAAAAHs/PPj8Y2HPsfk/s1600/scan0034.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="198" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-dq8ZkZcqz68/Th5gUOrwkxI/AAAAAAAAAHs/PPj8Y2HPsfk/s320/scan0034.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"> Vincent's mother (on the right).</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-xeqzWnvMssk/Th5gV_jPdaI/AAAAAAAAAHw/-rH0nvouiZM/s1600/scan0036.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="169" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-xeqzWnvMssk/Th5gV_jPdaI/AAAAAAAAAHw/-rH0nvouiZM/s320/scan0036.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"> Young men have to wear black (or just Western clothes) before they reach puberty. Only after they go through the 'manhood' ceremony can they wear the traditional red cloth.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-MlopVZRdZiA/Th5gYiJ9tqI/AAAAAAAAAH0/aJ81lJn11yc/s1600/scan0036b.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="216" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-MlopVZRdZiA/Th5gYiJ9tqI/AAAAAAAAAH0/aJ81lJn11yc/s320/scan0036b.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">Vincent and his father.<br />
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<div style="text-align: left;"><a href="http://thepeacecorpse.blogspot.com/2011/07/thousand-words-part-5-ilboru-secondary.html">- A Thousand Words (Part 5: Ilboru Secondary School) -</a></div><div style="text-align: left;"> </div></div>Andyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09727644316245631920noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1458654270165715960.post-3431345430081721562011-07-13T20:00:00.000-07:002011-07-16T07:15:16.410-07:00A Thousand Words (Part 3: On Safari)We went on Safari to Arusha National Park while in training. It was pretty cool.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-gdOPrw6k5SA/Th5bebDmETI/AAAAAAAAAHY/6NnBD8rqH1A/s1600/scan0028.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="198" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-gdOPrw6k5SA/Th5bebDmETI/AAAAAAAAAHY/6NnBD8rqH1A/s320/scan0028.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"> The safari vehicle.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-5cLSwp2FY2c/Th5bgGCQNbI/AAAAAAAAAHc/8v69MkCPEp8/s1600/scan0024.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="199" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-5cLSwp2FY2c/Th5bgGCQNbI/AAAAAAAAAHc/8v69MkCPEp8/s320/scan0024.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"> Arusha National Park doesn't have every type of stereotypical African animal, but it does have giraffes.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-AGZzxW-uAHo/Th5bh_6axzI/AAAAAAAAAHg/dXUGTUyq59U/s1600/scan0025.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="198" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-AGZzxW-uAHo/Th5bh_6axzI/AAAAAAAAAHg/dXUGTUyq59U/s320/scan0025.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">And flamingos. Apparently it's a bacteria that makes their feathers pink. The more you know.<br />
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<div style="text-align: left;"><a href="http://thepeacecorpse.blogspot.com/2011/07/thousand-words-part-4-monduli.html">- A Thousand Words (Part 4: Monduli) -</a></div><div style="text-align: left;"> </div></div>Andyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09727644316245631920noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1458654270165715960.post-74629265644928051932011-07-13T19:48:00.000-07:002011-07-16T07:14:15.514-07:00A Thousand Words (Part 2: Pre-Service Training)The Peace Corps training site was located in a fairly affluent section of Arusha, and had high concrete walls and guards at the gates. They checked every vehicle that came in for bombs, which was more disconcerting than reassuring.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-5p05VL8-1i4/Th5YDeTkm8I/AAAAAAAAAHI/Ty2ttv_izxg/s1600/scan0006a.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="204" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-5p05VL8-1i4/Th5YDeTkm8I/AAAAAAAAAHI/Ty2ttv_izxg/s320/scan0006a.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"> The main building, with a Peace Corps vehicle parked in front of it.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-I3O0marWxxo/Th5YE1Q4wXI/AAAAAAAAAHM/2AulAAZvGeY/s1600/scan0010.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-I3O0marWxxo/Th5YE1Q4wXI/AAAAAAAAAHM/2AulAAZvGeY/s320/scan0010.jpg" width="215" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"> A typical Tanzanian toilet.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-od-f-dRI6nc/Th5YGsi-zsI/AAAAAAAAAHQ/I_-zVtAGjN4/s1600/scan0020.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-od-f-dRI6nc/Th5YGsi-zsI/AAAAAAAAAHQ/I_-zVtAGjN4/s320/scan0020.jpg" width="230" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"> Every Volunteer stays with a local family for the first ten weeks to help them adjust to Tanzanian culture. During my time with a truly wonderful family, one of the cousins got married. Notice the white barbie doll on the cake. Weird.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-mDZTMjHp2Og/Th5YIdqDOvI/AAAAAAAAAHU/kg1_aE5PHD4/s1600/scan0022.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="193" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-mDZTMjHp2Og/Th5YIdqDOvI/AAAAAAAAAHU/kg1_aE5PHD4/s320/scan0022.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"> The wedding itself was pretty cool. I didn't get a picture of it, but at one point a guy came out in Hammer Pants and did the Hammer Dance. That made my whole trip to Africa, right there.<br />
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<div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;"><a href="http://thepeacecorpse.blogspot.com/2011/07/thousand-words-part-3-on-safari.html">- A Thousand Words (Part 3: On Safari) -</a></div><div style="text-align: left;"> </div></div>Andyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09727644316245631920noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1458654270165715960.post-55062006459353639642011-07-03T04:02:00.000-07:002011-07-16T07:20:43.411-07:00A Thousand Words (Part 1: Staging and Training)They say a picture is worth a thousand words. But who are "they" and why is it a thousand, exactly?<br />
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My book runs in at almost 100,000 words. That means I could've just posted 100 pictures and saved myself the trouble of writing it, right?<br />
<br />
Well, as a sort of supplement to the book, I'm going to post 100 pictures from my time as a Volunteer in East Africa. Not all at once, of course, but just a few at a time.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-TYaV_k2alwg/ThBK90wa2vI/AAAAAAAAACw/zaUd5jNdIhU/s1600/scan0.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="203" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-TYaV_k2alwg/ThBK90wa2vI/AAAAAAAAACw/zaUd5jNdIhU/s320/scan0.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">It really is amazing how parts of Africa look just like parts of the United States.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-8RAh6Tw8jJM/ThBK_KYrkxI/AAAAAAAAAC0/XfnGWpyPl_o/s1600/scan0001.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="202" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-8RAh6Tw8jJM/ThBK_KYrkxI/AAAAAAAAAC0/XfnGWpyPl_o/s320/scan0001.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">Right. Obviously I took some pictures before we left America. My first experience with the Peace Corps was in what they called "Staging", three days in Washington, D.C. where we were given some introductory information, vaccinations, and (I assume) a chance to back out at the last minute before committing to going to Africa. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-IEkJR0OF0vc/ThBLAEtXTNI/AAAAAAAAAC4/wM4ETe70pNA/s1600/scan0003.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="197" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-IEkJR0OF0vc/ThBLAEtXTNI/AAAAAAAAAC4/wM4ETe70pNA/s320/scan0003.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"> Here's a view of Arusha, Tanzania, from one of the best hotels in the city. Arusha was where we spent our first ten weeks, in Peace Corps Training.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-U2N2SYOJEWA/ThBLBLMqJ-I/AAAAAAAAAC8/wxpPShuagv4/s1600/scan0006.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="196" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-U2N2SYOJEWA/ThBLBLMqJ-I/AAAAAAAAAC8/wxpPShuagv4/s320/scan0006.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">Arusha lies at the base of Mt. Meru, the second highest mountain in Tanzania.</div><br />
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<a href="http://thepeacecorpse.blogspot.com/2011/07/thousand-words-part-2-pre-service.html">- A Thousand Words (Part 2: Pre-Service Training) -</a><br />
Andyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09727644316245631920noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1458654270165715960.post-72261845171926306182011-05-18T23:39:00.000-07:002011-05-18T23:39:01.987-07:00Culture (and my lack thereof)<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:WordDocument> <w:View>Normal</w:View> <w:Zoom>0</w:Zoom> <w:PunctuationKerning/> <w:ValidateAgainstSchemas/> <w:SaveIfXMLInvalid>false</w:SaveIfXMLInvalid> <w:IgnoreMixedContent>false</w:IgnoreMixedContent> <w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText>false</w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText> <w:Compatibility> <w:BreakWrappedTables/> <w:SnapToGridInCell/> <w:WrapTextWithPunct/> <w:UseAsianBreakRules/> <w:DontGrowAutofit/> </w:Compatibility> <w:BrowserLevel>MicrosoftInternetExplorer4</w:BrowserLevel> </w:WordDocument> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:LatentStyles DefLockedState="false" LatentStyleCount="156"> </w:LatentStyles> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if !mso]><img src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/video_object.png" style="background-color: #b2b2b2; " class="BLOGGER-object-element tr_noresize tr_placeholder" id="ieooui" data-original-id="ieooui" /> <style>
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</div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Why are so many Americans left-handed?</i></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">- Fred's host father</div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Because we don’t BEAT them if they try to use their left hand.</i></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">- Fred</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10.0pt;">To: Everyone</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10.0pt;">Subject: Culture (and my lack thereof)</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10.0pt;">Thursday, 27 February 2003</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10.0pt;">The key to navigating in a foreign culture is small, shiny, made of brass, and I think my neighbor kid took it when he came over yesterday. Oh, wait, that’s the key to my bike lock. The key to navigating in a foreign culture is understanding that the people around you are doing what they do for a reason, even if you don’t understand what that reason is. Or if you do understand it, but think it’s really, really stupid. According to Buddhism, if you understand someone you can’t help but love them. Guess that explains why I hate so many people here. Only kidding, I don’t hate anyone. Or if I do I don’t let them know about it until it’s too late to stop me…</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10.0pt;">Sooo, yeah. Culture. Other teachers give me a hard time if I show up wearing a shirt that isn’t ironed (which is every day) but no one even noticed that I dyed my hair red. They make such a big deal about washing clothes and looking nice (traveling is something to dress up for here, even though it’s a dirty and dusty endeavor) but hardly anyone wears deodorant. I couldn’t understand this until a Volunteer friend of mine pointed out to me how cheap soap is, but how expensive and unavailable deodorant is. This knowledge made it easier for me to resist the urge to point out their body odor when they point out my wrinkled shirt.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10.0pt;">Peace Corps insisted we be clean-shaven, but I’ve decided to grow back my goatee. I figure if the female teachers at my school can have facial hair, so can I. I’m not kidding, it’s really disturbing. Some of these women can grow a better beard than my brother (sorry bro, I just needed an example). I don’t know if that’s a cultural thing or not. Likewise, I still find it funny when I see a beautiful girl unabashedly picking her nose in public.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10.0pt;">“Shikamoo” is a respectful greeting you are expected to say to everyone older than you. That’s pretty much everyone at my school, including about half my students I think. Greetings are so important here. People here are much more reliant on each other for survival than Americans, and therefore must maintain close relationships with the people around them. They can’t afford to offend anyone, since they might need help from that person in the future. Hence the numerous greetings.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10.0pt;">“Mzungu!”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10.0pt;">Literally it means “person that goes in circles” because the first Tanzanians that saw Europeans pass by thought that it was just the same person going around and around. Apparently all white people look alike. I, for example, am regularly mistaken for the fiancée of the Volunteer I replaced, in spite of the fact that he is 6 inches shorter than me and has black hair. Tanzanians think it’s really clever to shout “Mzungu!” at any white person they see. Of course, I think it’s clever to reply, “[You can see. Congratulations].”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10.0pt;">I know it shouldn’t get to me. It’s the Swahili word for white person, and I am white, but there’s just something about it that bothers me. There’s some resentment attached to the word. It’s as if they’re saying, “Hey, whitey!” Not horribly insulting, but not completely friendly either. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10.0pt;">Kids on the street will often shout it, but when they’re smiling and waving I don’t mind. I know they’re just excited because to them a white person is a novelty. Other kids say it because they think I don’t understand, and they view it as a kind of joke at my expense. So when they shout, “mzungu!” I respond with, “[child]!” Hollie, another Volunteer, tried this as well, and she made some kid cry. Wish I could’ve seen that…</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10.0pt;">Tanzanians as a group like to categorize everything. They see everything as black and white, and have little room in their perceptions for grays. All white people are European. Everyone is either Christian, Muslim, or Pagan. Americans, on the other hand, are strongly individualistic and don’t like to be so arbitrarily tossed into categories. I don’t think there’s a single Volunteer that isn’t bothered by being called Mzungu.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10.0pt;">So yeah, sometimes I get annoyed, but mostly I can smile (as I plot revenge). Some things are just bizarrely funny. This week I was in the midst of another chemistry lab when the melodic strains of voices singing, “If you’re happy and you know it clap your hands” (well actually it was more like, “Eef your heppy ind you know it clrep yo hans”) came from a nearby classroom. It totally blew my concentration. It seemed so ludicrously out of place, all I could do was stop and smile.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10.0pt;">All this is of course from my perspective. I’ve no doubt that a lot of things I do must seem pretty bizarre from a Tanzanian perspective. Of course a lot of things I do must seem pretty bizarre from an American perspective too. Like coming here in the first place. But as I said before, seeing a guy in hammer pants doing the hammer dance made the whole trip worth it.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10.0pt;">Peace</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10.0pt;">AJ</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10.0pt;">Next time: What the hell am I going to do with 5,000 mangos?</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>I’ve read a few books about Africa, and while a lot of authors make an effort to describe the cultures and customs of various groups, I have yet to come across a book that describes where the customs come from, and why the people behave the way they do.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Therefore, I’ve decided to make an attempt at describing a bit of what Tanzanians do that’s different from how Americans do things, and why I think they do these things. So yeah, I’d like to emphasize that these are just my own ideas, so take them for what they’re worth. Anyway, here goes:</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>To start off, try and imagine what Tanzania was like before any outsiders came. And I don’t just mean Whitey, because coastal Tanzania has had contact with Asia since like the ninth century at least.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Honestly, being here it’s hard for me to imagine. I mean, corn, bananas, beans and rice are pretty much the main crops here, and quite a bit of the land immediately surrounding Korogwe [the town where I live] is semi-arid farmland, but <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">none</i> of those crops are native to Africa. Corn comes from America, and bananas, beans and rice all come from Asia. So what the hell did people eat? I should go ask someone…</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Alright, my neighbors don’t know either. But anyway, a lot of tribes here have been traditionally agricultural for centuries, cultivating…something…and out of necessity very distinct gender roles developed. Basically, it was mostly the job of the women to look after the crops and animals, while the men were tasked with defending the village from predators and invaders. And that’s just the way it was. For centuries.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>And yeah, an ignorant observer might think the men were just lazy because they just sat around all day and did very little, but that too was out of necessity. They were conserving their strength and energy for when it would be needed to defend their homes and families.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>I was thinking about this the other day as I was waiting for a bus at the bus stand. In every single bus stand in Tanzania there’s always a bunch of young men just loitering. If they’re bored enough they’ll come harass me for a bit, but mostly they just hang out. Then, when a bus arrives, they all leap to their feet, shouting, jostling, loading and unloading baggage, and directing passengers to and from the bus. For their efforts they usually get a few coins tossed at them from the bus conductor, and once the bus is gone they go back to just sitting around.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>It’s not hard for me to imagine these same young men living hundreds of years ago, laying about until some warning is given, at which point they grab their spears and defend their homes with all the vigor and valor they’re capable of.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Of course, it’s also not hard for me to imagine giant robotic amphibians gleefully blasting Korogwe into oblivion, so maybe it’s just me.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>But my point is that from a historical perspective, it seems kind of unrealistic to expect Tanzanian men to give up the lifestyle they’ve been accustomed to for centuries and adapt a more Western 8-hour-a-day work mentality without any resistance or difficulty. I think it’s going to take time.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Tanzanians are very fatalistic too. A lot of them honestly seem to think that their actions don’t have any effect on the outcome of their lives. They don’t seem to understand the simple concept of cause-and-effect. And yeah, from a Western perspective it seems pretty stupid—and it <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">is</i> pretty stupid—but look at it from a Tanzanian perspective:</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Hundreds of years ago, you could be the nicest, most honorable Tanzanian ever, and you could still end up getting eaten by a lion or die of malaria. Or you could be a total asshole, sleep with as many women as possible, and your genes would get passed on. Or you could be a nice guy and be successful. Or you could be a jerk and get eaten by a lion or die of malaria.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The point is, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">your actions do not determine the outcome of your life.</i> Yeah. I mean, in the West we’re taught that if you work hard you’ll succeed because most of the time it actually does work out that way. Or at least often enough for it to be observable. And good actions generally have good consequences, while bad actions generally have bad consequences.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Not so in Tanzania. Even today. The vigilante justice here is pretty brutal, but it’s also pretty random, so it’s not really much of a deterrent for criminals. And the actual legal system, as far as I know, is pretty ineffective. And while in the West, consistently overcharging people will most likely cause you to lose business to competitors, in Tanzania overcharging white people is fine because most of the time, you’ll never see the same white people ever again. Which is great for them, and perfectly understandable, but <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">really</i> frustrating for those of us on a Volunteer budget.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>One of the saddest things about this mentality has to do with mosquito nets. If every household uses mosquito nets dipped in a special chemical (which is harmless to humans but repels mosquitoes) an entire village can effectively be protected from malaria (the mosquitoes that carry it mostly come out at night. Mostly.) Various Western groups have tried giving out the nets and chemicals for free, but the Tanzanians turned around and <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">sold them</i>.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Now my first thought when I heard this was, If the nets are being distributed into a community for free, who the hell are the people selling them to? I never did find an answer, but the point was that the people would rather have a few coins in the present than the dubious (to them) possibility of being protected from malaria in the future. And from a Tanzanian perspective, this is perfectly rational.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>But this is also why Tanzania doesn’t really have a functioning economy. Because while anyone would be willing to <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">receive</i> a loan from a bank, no one would ever pay it back. Even though that would mean they could never get another loan. So obviously, banks in Tanzania don’t give out loans. Which means there’s no means of getting credit if you want to do something; you have to have the cash. Which means very few can afford to try and start any kind of business. Which is why there’s virtually no middle class in Tanzania. Which is why the government can get away with being so corrupt. And so on.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Tanzanians are very rigid thinkers. They like to put everything into discrete, inflexible categories: all snakes are poisonous; everyone from the Chagga tribe is smart; everyone from the Shambaa tribe is lazy; everyone from the Maasai tribe is fierce; all white people are rich, gullible, intelligent but physically weak, don’t speak Swahili, and are from Europe. And again, this way of thinking makes sense from a historical perspective. Assuming all snakes are poisonous isn’t a bad thing to do when you live in the same place as the Black Mamba—which they call “the seven-step snake” because if it bites you, you can take about seven steps before you die.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Heh, this doesn’t have anything to do with culture, but one time I killed a snake outside my house with a rock, and then hung it on the tree in front of my door as a sort of trophy. One of the neighbor kids saw it and started <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">screaming</i> in abject terror, even though it was very clearly dead.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>That was funny.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Anyway, it’s not necessarily a bad thing to make assumptions—especially when it comes to snakes—but the problem arises when you can’t revise your assumption based on new information.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Like the time Aaron and I were having a conversation in Swahili with a Tanzanian guy, while another looked on. I swear I could almost see the diseased hamster limping on the rusted wheel in what passed for the onlooker’s brain as he tried to comprehend what was going on. Finally, when there was a pause in the conversation, he jumped in with, “<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Jambo, mzungu. Jambo.</i> That means hello.”</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>No shit. <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Jambo</i> is, unfortunately, the first word every white person learns when they come to Tanzania. <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Mzungu</i>, even more unfortunately, is the second. Now there’s nothing inherently wrong with the word <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">jambo</i>, but the thing is, Tanzanians never say it to each other. They only say it to white people. White people who they think don’t know Swahili. And they say it with such utter distain, you can pretty much tell they’re thinking, “You’re such an ignorant <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">mzungu</i> I have to say <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">jambo</i> to you because you obviously don’t know Swahili.”</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Of course, if I said <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">every</i> Tanzanian was like that, I would be the racist. And hell, if every Tanzanian actually <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">was</i> like that, I would’ve just quit and gone home. The fact is, I actually did have some good experiences with Tanzanians.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Like when Sharon, my neighbor Mama Kitaly’s 10-year-old son, came to my house with the following note:</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-size: 10.0pt;">Kaka endru naomba ujakwenye bass day yangu itakayo fanyika saa kumi na mbili jioni</span></i></div><div class="MsoNormal"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-size: 10.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>mimi ni Sharoni</span></i></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>This took me a while to figure out. The only words I couldn’t translate were “endru” and “bass day”—until I read it out loud. “Endru” was my name—Andrew—and “bass day” was birthday. It was an invitation to his birthday party. Sharon was one of the kids who went hiking with me, and I liked him. He was always friendly and polite when I saw him. His mother was the head of the school’s chemistry department.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Unfortunately for him, he didn’t really give me time to go get him a present, so I had to just grab a few random things from around the house. I didn’t want to give him anything too ostentatious for fear of the other kids getting jealous, so I settled on a mechanical pencil and some other small things. I brought my camera too so I could take pictures and give him copies later.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Mama Kitaly’s house was constructed similarly to mine, but unlike mine it actually felt like a home. The wooden furniture was similar to what I had, but her cushions were covered in a nicer fabric that matched the curtains and carpet. And doilies. Lots and lots of doilies. Tanzanians love doilies. Obviously nothing they had was terribly expensive, but everything was clean and well-cared-for. Plus, just the fact that the place was full of happy children and I could smell good food cooking.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>I was a little surprised by how well-dressed the kids were, and how subdued as well. Sure they were smiling and talking, but not running around and causing havoc like I would’ve expected of kids that age at a birthday party.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Not long after I arrived, Sharon assumed the role of master of ceremonies and officially started the party. First he thanked everyone for coming, then abruptly asked me if I would say a few words. I was completely caught off guard, and all I could manage was, “[I don’t know Swahili, but I know that Sharon is my friend].” But apparently that was satisfactory, as Mama Kitaly gave me an approving smile and brought out the cake. Sharon blew out the candles, opened his presents, and then we had cake.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The kids played for a while, then Mama Kitaly sent them back to their respective houses for dinner. She invited me to stay to have dinner with her family, and there was really no polite way for me to refuse. Besides, after being around so many happy, lively people I really didn’t feel like going back to my bare, empty house.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>We had to wait for her husband to get home, which he did a little after dark. Fortunatos was a handsome man with a friendly smile and a firm handshake. He was getting a Master’s degree in Morogoro, and was sorry to have missed the party. But the kids were excited to see him nonetheless.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Despite the fact that it was his birthday, Sharon eagerly helped set the table, and we all sat down to eat. It was a simple meal of fish with boiled potatoes, carrots, onions and spinach, but still pretty good.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“I notice you are eating with your left hand,” Fortunatos observed.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Yeah?” I was a little apprehensive about where he was going with this, especially after my encounter with that creepy Vincent guy in Arusha.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 21.0pt;">“I am left-handed as well.” </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 21.0pt;">Oh. He was just making conversation. And as it turned out, we actually did have a really good conversation. Even after the meal was finished, I stayed quite late into the evening, just hanging out and talking with him.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The thing is, most of the teachers at the school were nice enough, but most were in their 40s or older, had their lives, families and children to worry about, and I just didn’t have anything in common with them. But Fortunatos was in his 30s, and interested in politics and economics and the world in general. We actually spent quite a lot of time talking about the problems facing Tanzania and what we thought could be done to fix them. It was fun, and interesting.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>I’d like to say that he and I would’ve become pretty good friends if it wasn’t for the fact that he was in Morogoro most of the time, but I think that would be a lie. The sad fact is, I was <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">afraid</i> to get too close to anyone in Korogwe. I was afraid if I became friends with anyone, they’d just start using it as an excuse to start asking me for stuff. I was afraid the only reason anyone <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">wanted</i> to be friends with me was so they could get stuff from me. And you can’t really be friends with someone if you’re constantly questioning their motives.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The worst part though is that I honestly just preferred being alone to spending time with anyone in Korogwe. I know that sounds bad, but it’s the truth.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>And that’s about all I have to say about culture for the moment. Of course, my understanding of the situation and why people did what they did never really did keep me from getting pissed off and frustrated by it.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
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</div>Andyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09727644316245631920noreply@blogger.com1