10/12/08
Oh, before I forget, let me tell you the best part of the cockroach story! Mama Dorica came home that night and proceeded to tell me that when she went to pay her friend for taking me to the post office he told her he had a very interesting day. I laughed a bit when she told me this and asked why, what does he think of Americans? She proceeded to tell me that he asked if America has roaches and if I had never seen that type of insect before! Unfortunately so, America has roaches! Anyhow, Mama Dorica tells him NOOO! She told the poor man that America doesn’t have roaches! Excellent, job well done!
Amanda and I decided to go for a dala dala ride on Thursday as we had a free afternoon. We jumped on a dala dala and found our way to Mwenge where we searched for an unfamiliar dala dala to hop on and unfamiliar we did find. This particular dala dala seemed to be turned backwards from all the rest with a foreign location neither of us knew. Kunduchi? Something similar to that name, but anyways we start cruising and it’s definitely taking us in a direction I have never been. I was sitting by the window, which I thought was the best seat but in all reality it was probably the worst. My neck doesn’t really bend that way and I wanted to stick my head out the window, but Amanda insisted I should not. With the thought of Judy’s husband in Vegas getting his head decapitated by a CAT bus, I thought it was wise to keep my head inside the van. So anyways, about thirty minutes into the ride a few local school aged students spotted me through the window and shouted our favorite word “mzungu” so I replied while driving pass “mambo.” I got a ‘nice job’ from Amanda because that always gets their attention, and I totally feed off of it. (I am going to miss that in America—being so recognizable) Few minutes later Amanda says, “I see some slides.” “Water slides?” “Yeah, something like that.” Seriously?! Moments later everyone is getting off our dala dala so we follow and what do we find before us? Yeah, some sort of a Wet-n-Wild resort! Our luck, right? Amanda and I venture around and find the beach behind the resort—our second time finding the Indian Ocean and neither time planned! I found some pretty awesome shells and collected them to bring home—felt like Jessica on the beach. Ha ha!
So yesterday our host family wanted to take us to the beach. Finally, we are actually going to go swimming in the Indian Ocean! We pack our stuff and head out the door with Haika, Debby, and Baba. We start driving and they proceed to tell us they are taking us to a place that also has pools and showers because Debby isn’t comfortable with swimming in the Ocean. To our surprise, we find ourselves back at the Wet-N-Wild resort we had found just days earlier! I am not too thrilled as I hate water parks for numerous reasons—number one, I am fat and don’t like wearing a bathing suit. Anyhow, I figure I have nothing to lose and we can find the beach another day—not that I am fond of the beach either, but that’s probably because I live just miles from any beach in Florida. Nonetheless, it turned out to be quite fun once I got over the fact that the water was slightly lime green from all the algae. Amanda and I were probably the oldest kids there, but we made ourselves fit in. Hakia wouldn’t come in the water and we couldn’t figure out why. We tried so hard to get her to come play, but to no avail she sat there guarding our belongings. I can’t even describe what happened on the rides, but I do know my fat abs and neck are a tad sore today—need I say more! Put two overgrown adults in a water park for children and use your imagination. I am certain Amanda got more beat up going down one time than I did, but I still managed to take a small beating. She was also a trouble maker—skipping stairs and bouncing her tube on the ground. Tsk tsk tsk!
10/19/08
Sorry for the delay in blog writing. I have had very little motivation to write. Not too sure why, but let me try to recap some of the past few days. I have still had very little success with any of my classes. The psychology course that was approved by FAU is the only class I have really had any luck with. I have been to two lectures last week and hopefully will get another three in this week. Met a few Tanzanian guys in the class, and they exchanged numbers. They haven’t been trying to stalk me like Emmanuel. Speaking of Emmanuel, he seems to have moved onto Mandi. Mandi is an American from Wisconsin originally, but attending the University of Minnesota. I feel her pain, but if she is smart and puts him on extinction like I did, he might leave her alone! I am just glad he has stopped bothering me and the other Tanzanian guys haven’t sent me crazy texts either. I will keep my fingers crossed.
On Thursday two Massai men came to the house to braid my hair for the bargain price of 20,000 TZS, plus the price of the fake hair which was another 10,000 TZS. All together it was about 30 dollars. It hurt like hell and it didn’t help to sit between the two men. Literally, my head was wedge between their two thighs—one on each side. The smell was not pleasant, I could have probably had a peak show if I wanted to look, and it only lasted 5 hours. Not bad, right? The hair came out nice. It’s red and extremely tiny. I haven’t seen myself with this dark of hair in a long time and unfortunately because our hair is different, it’s not holding for as long as I was hoping. I will try to keep it in for as long as possible, but I am afraid it will be out before long. On the brighter side of things, I washed it on Thursday night and haven’t washed it since! I don’t have to worry about how I want to wear it, because there isn’t much I can really do with it. It’s a little awkward feeling, but nothing horrendous.
Friday after class we ventured off to Bagamoya for an art festival show. Mandi came along and I am glad she did. We lounged on the beach for a while, watched a Massai man undress and go for a swim with some other foreigners, and then went to watch some sort of show. Mandi wanted to head back before dark because she doesn’t like to be out walking after the sun sets. I can’t blame her one bit. She was one of the girls involved with the machete incident her first week here. So Amanda stayed and we ventured home. I am a tad sad after looking at some of Amanda’s pictures that I didn’t stay, but all is good.
Saturday, I did what I do best, and I slept all day. Literally! I don’t know how I can always manage to be tired and sleep some days, while other days I can’t sleep for crap! Anyhow, we had another wedding to attend and I was slightly dreading it because weddings last for hours in Africa. Once again, I don’t know the bride or the groom, but we’re sitting and watching when BAM—out goes the power! Amanda and I have had several candle lit dinners, but now a wedding? Do they prepare for power outages at weddings? This stalled the wedding by a good hour and we ended up not leaving till almost 1am! Amanda was extremely tired, but I on the other hand, wide awake. I guess that’s what happens after sleeping all night and day. I was also getting bit by my favorite little friends, mosquitos. I didn’t know the wedding was going to be outside, as the other wedding was inside, but no worries because as the night cooled down they basically left.
What else is there to say… Well, I have been messing around with Haika. She is afraid of me—go figure. I just tried to give her a massage and she freaked out. It works out well though because I get a massage in return. I am a smart cookie and she has strong hands! I had to tell her to be gentler because she was hurting me. Anyhow, she taught Amanda how to make a chipote tonight. I try them every time, but I am just not a chipote fan. I want to learn how to make some other food though, so tomorrow night she will start teaching us other things. I helped her wash dishes tonight. She stood over my shoulder and watched me like a hawk! It was a little awkward and I asked her if I was doing it ok, but she still didn’t leave. Made for an awkward dish washing, but I figured I could use it as English time and I taught her a few words such as—washing dishes, spatchula, rinse, scrub, glass, coffee mug, etc. After mama and baba left, I played around with her and Debby. Tried to play catch with Debby using an egg and that resulted in me cleaning up a broken egg and Haika laughing. Hopefully they won’t tell Mama Dorica?
Oh, Friday night I finally got to see Hall 3 dorms. They were interestingly shaped, but quite possibly not as bad as Algonquin at FAU. Imagine that!
I chatted this afternoon for quite some time with Mama Dorica’s mother and sister. The four of us sat outside in a shady spot sharing stories of Africa and America. I had some stories they were shocked to hear, such as that teenage girl who lived down the street from our house in Fort Lauderdale who gave birth to her baby in a bathtub and proceeded to wrap it in a plastic bag and toss in the garbage. They were shocked to hear that incidents like that happen in America. They were telling me about men in Africa and another story about women cheating in Nairobi and the price they pay. The gist of the story was they follow these women around like paparazzi and take pictures of them cheating. Afterwards, they go to the women and demand they pay a certain price if they want the pictures or else they will show their family. The women pay for the pictures and think they have received them all, but then another man comes up and has more pictures demanding once again for more money. It’s a vicious cycle apparently. It was a very interesting conversation, probably the most interesting one since I have been here.
I have been having some interesting dreams or maybe I am just remembering dreams. I had one dream that I came to Africa for 4 days and then I went back to America, but our shelf in our room was in America and I was upset that I didn’t get the pictures from Amanda’s camera. I had another dream about my knee and elbows. I went to the doctor to have an MRI and my right knee and my right elbow had this fracture/splinter looking thing? I can’t really explain it and I am drawing a huge blank with medical words, but I can still vividly see the pictures in my head as if it were real. I have had a few other dreams, but I can’t remember them off the top of my head. Amanda happens to be in a few and I am beginning to wonder if it’s the new pills. I am not complaining about the pills. They aren’t bad dreams and I am certainly much happier with these pills, but I never remember dreams like this. I should keep a dream journal. That would be interesting. I mean, I have started to collect notes on Amanda’s sleep talking and before I leave I will definitely write a blog about all that.
I got Laura’s message about Isaac! I am so excited and Tracy has sent me a voice recording of it. She has also sent me a voice recording of Lucas. I am going to take an African drumming class with Amanda and a few other foreigners—the best part, we get to keep the drum! Maybe when I get back I can show Isaac the basics and he’ll out do me in a matter of months? Anyone want to make any predictions or wagers?
I also went to church and met up with that family we ran into at the Embassy. It was an okay experience. Nothing to great, but met some really cool people and I plan to go back next Sunday. I told the family if they ever wanted to go out for any reason that I would be more than happy to hang out with the kids. They actually have two kids. One new born infant and another adoptive son, whom I am assuming is a Tanzanian native.
My thoughts are everywhere. Sorry! Just remembered, I don’t think I mentioned since my last blog anything about the ‘roof party.’ Yeah, when I say roof party, that’s exactly what it was. You walk all the way up 5 or so levels of spiral stairs and tada, you’re on the roof! No balcony, no ledge, and no lights except a few candles they brought up. I sat along the edge for a few minutes before I realized I didn’t trust myself and decided to move. I mean, one simple push or even an accidental fall from someone else could have sent me tumbling 5 floors down. Pretty crazy, but it turned out to be a decent night. It’s really interesting how all the foreigners basically flock together—American, Canada, Germany, Japan, Sweden, etc! All walks of life, sitting on the roof of a dorm in Tanzania with candles illuminating your faces, and accents flowing with crazy intoxicated foreigners—conversations were ranging from being chased by lions to a lecture on Canadian politics and the night ended with a ten second bajahjee ride home followed by the Swedish comment, “we’ll have a talk about this later,” in reference to our ten second ride home. (There is a story behind that, but I don’t feel like typing it!)
10/21/08
Being in Africa was supposed to be an escape from the world. I wanted time to relax and simply be nothing more than a college bum. Well, I am in Africa and it is definitely an escape from what I am used too. I might not be waking up to an alarm clock at 5:45 to leave my house by 6:15 so I can race through traffic to make it to Adam’s by 7, but instead I toss and turn with my hot sweaty sheet’s while listening to Haika sweep outside our window and the birds chirp—although, somehow, I think a bird chirping sounds much better than these crows. Nonetheless, the sweeping, the birds, and the roosters (they remind me of Vegas summer’s) crowing along with the bright sun and scorching heat could possibly drive anyone crazy.
Last night was interesting to say the least and finally I had done something halfway productive since I have been here—went to Mwenge to teach some local Tanzanians a little bit of English. I was teaching the advanced group because my Swahili is more than just terrible, but anyhow I have never felt quite so illiterate in all my life (except when around Amanda). I know I am not the brightest crayon in the box, but some of the words these Tanzanians had found from who knows what they were reading, left me almost speechless. I could use the words in a sentence, but not sure how to explain them and god forbid I give them false information! I am sure I did somewhere along the lines, but it was a really neat experience overall. Anyhow, I am trying to figure out what to do with all my time. I haven’t had this much time since…hell, not even high school! Like I mentioned, part of the reason I ventured to Africa was to be a college bum and just attend classes, but I only have one class to attend and its past mid-October! I have worked non-stop for the past four years and all this down time is starting to get the best of me. The European Film Festival is great, but I HATE movies and the last movie we saw was far too depressing. The movies are a great time killer with AC, but my legs can’t sit still. I don’t even notice my ADD legs until someone points them out. Apparently my vigorous shaking got the best of Amanda because she reached over and slapped them still! I spent the rest of that movie focusing on keeping my legs still which took a lot of brain power, but was doable for the most part. Anyhow, after the German movie a few nights ago, I decided I didn’t want to see anymore movies, even if they are free! Souhail might just be in heaven if he were here with all these movies and I would hate to see his follow up blog critiques afterwards. (Where the hell did Souhail’s name just come from?!) Anyhow, I think I have watched more movies in the past month than I have in ALL my life!
Last night I started venting to Baba since the poor man asked me if something was wrong—I broke down and told him everything! Somehow during our little talk about the money and classes my frustration turned to anger. It’s so tempting sometimes to call it quits and find the next flight home, but realistically that won’t solve any of the current problems. Why did my frustration turn to anger? Well, our host family (who is extremely awesome, I’d like to add) was told they would be given $130 to $150 American dollars per student per week. Since there are two of us living here, the host family was expecting a total of $260 to $300 dollars a week for hosting us Americans and not to mention, it’s not easy to host Americans. When I first started looking at the program I thought about staying in a dorm because it was over $2,000 dollars cheaper, but instead I went with paying more for a homestay. So while I am chatting about money with Baba, I learn that AFTER Amanda and I were ALREADY here, KEI decided to tell them that they were only going to get $100 dollars per student per week. That makes for a total of $200 dollars vs. the original $260 to $300 they were informed of getting and once we were here they couldn’t say no, so Baba said they had no choice but to continue to host us. Simply put, out of the ten grand I am paying, my host family who feeds us three meals a day and much more is only getting $1600 dollars for my entire stay. Whoa, why am I paying over $2000 more for a homestay if this family isn’t getting all their money they were promised! I feel that KEI took complete advantage of the situation because had this been any other European country, a host family would not accept what happened here. KEI will be receiving an email soon, that’s all I have to say!
Today I was on a mission of locating the professor of my missing classes. First stop, history department and what do I find out…the professor is in Denmark until October 31st! This means I don’t have class till he returns which literally means I will be in my history class for about 1 month and 1 week. Crazy, eh! I was also instructed that the class probably doesn’t meet at the time shown on the time table and it will be really hard to actually find out when it does meet, but I guess I will worry about that on Oct 31st!
10/22/08
I was lying in bed last night scratching all my mosquito bites when it dawned on me that I had forgotten to take my malaria pills. I carefully removed myself from squeaky bed and swallow my handful of pills while untying my mosquito net. I have not been sleeping with it lately because there really aren’t any mosquito’s, but I figured for the next few days I will suffocate myself and revert back to my princess like bed till I heal. Amanda was probably a little surprised to see my net down as I was half asleep when she turned out the lights, but my net was tied up. Anyways, I had another bizarre dream last night, but nothing serious. The characters: Crystal, Juliette, a safari guide, and me. The short version story line: Crystal wanted to commit suicide so we pushed out our safari guide and stole his land rover. Crystal drove (why, I don’t know! I should have been the driver since it was manual) and dropped me off at a camp site. Her and Juliette left. Few hours later Juliette appeared in a Bajahjee paying the man 100 TZS. I asked her where Crystal was and she said she didn’t know. I am a great sister letting her go kill herself. I run inside the house (where did the house come from, I am supposed to be at a camp site!) and grab my phone to make a call. Walk back outside and there is Crystal! She is upset and crying and I am livid at what almost happened and started beating her. Eh, she didn’t die! Damn! I had another interesting dream the other day while I was napping, but words can’t explain it! It is something that could only happen in a dream and it was wicked fun! It reminded me of the movie (Blank Check?) and a Ferris wheel. Good combination, eh?!
This morning I hiked to campus to talk to Christopher. He would be the French professor. Such a sweet man, but not to my surprise, I can’t take French. Their beginner’s level in college is probably equivalent to an advanced level in America. Their students have take French for 6 years in secondary school so by the time they get to college they are probably almost fluent. America’s foreign language system is crap and we get teased being American’s and not knowing a second language. Most of the other foreigners here speak their home language, English, and are also learning Swahili. Some even speak more than that! I know how to greet people in French, tell you my colors in Hebrew, count to ten in Spanish, and barely communicate essential needs in Swahili. That will get me far, not!
Haika laughs at how much I sleep, but I like to take afternoon naps! It’s so hot and I have nothing else to do, why not? Although, a part of me feels slightly guilty for sleeping while she slaves away washing our clothes or cooking lunch. I followed her around the kitchen tonight learning how to make their beans. I would type it in Swahili, but I would butcher the words to hell. She finds it humorous how I cut certain things or peel a potato. I have never peeled a potato with just a knife so I am super slow! She is very patient though and if there are four potato’s, she makes me peel two and she will peel two—even if she is just standing there watching which sometimes is a tad stressful!
The highlight of my day—AFRICAN DRUMMING! We received our drums today (which are currently making our room stink like vomit) and our drum sticks (2 branches from a tree) are a nice added feature. The drums are a combination of wood, cow, and goat—they stand about 2 ½ feet tall and are rather difficult to play. We found ourselves sitting under a tree swarming with bee’s in the far back of campus pounding away on our drums. There were three Tanzanians and six mzungu’s in the class, which should make for a nice combination. At some point during our drumming lesson, I scratched my head (I have been complaining about it itching lately) and noticed a lot of white crap falling out. I haven’t washed my hair since they braided it and even then I didn’t get a chance to wash it. I had put gel in it that day and they said no, it was fine. When I got home tonight I washed it, but I am still not sure if I have dandruff or if it’s literally just dirt!
So the semi-bad news is…I doubt I will be able to graduate on time. This adventure, which as far as schooling is concerned, hasn’t been very productive. I think I have finally accepted the idea that I won’t graduate this semester and I am OK with that for a few different reasons. First, I can work all summer and get out of debt and second if I graduate next fall it postpones all my student school loans by about 6 more months than originally planned. Than I can work all spring semester and start saving before I have to start paying off my school loans. I think that is the best solution I have come up with thus far. As Amanda says, ‘it also postpones the real world.’ Eh, to an extent she may be right, but I do live in the real world now. My job will be the same whether I graduate this spring or next fall. It’s just a difference of 25-30 hours or 40-50 hours a week and maybe a slight increase in pay. Another solution is I work less this semester and try to cram in all my classes. Choices…decisions…any suggestions??? If I can pull it off and graduate this semester, start working full time in June, pay off debt this summer, and save till November (that’ll be the 6 month grace period)…hmmm, that’s definitely a possibility too.
(I think these are the final classes I have left to take unless I am missing one)
Research Methods in Psych
French 11
DIS
Psych Elective
Anatomy/Biology
Deep breath. It’s doable, but is it doable working 18 hours with Adam, 6 with Lucas, and as many as I can find with Isaac? Crap, that’s probably more than 35 hours! ::screaming:: I guess after a semester of doing nothing, I can suck it up? Maybe I can rotate Saturday’s with Crystal when working with Adam, but Saturdays I never accomplish anything anyway. Although, that could possibly mean every other Saturday I could do a short session with Isaac if Crystal were to work with Adam. BIG SIGH. I am a naughty student. Ok, scratch my plan of graduating in the fall and I am going to graduate this semester!
10/23/08
This blog is all out of order and probably makes very little sense, but it all makes sense to me! Anyhoo, we have another drumming class today, plan on going to Mwenge to teach again, and then we are off to Zanzibar for Friday, Saturday, and Sunday! The beaches and snorkeling are supposed to be AMAZING! Oh, and we finally got our residency! Whoo hoo! I actually just find that a tad ironic for me since I am leaving about 6 weeks, but it’s good until June! Anyone want to come back to Tanzania with me?!
On a quick side note while I am thinking of it—this morning’s dream. I was at the summer Olympics in Egypt! I was being taught how to swim fast like an Olympian and then the water dried up so we had to make a damn and ride this silly cart that launched up a hill. Very funny now that I think of it, but it was fun!
Just finished my Psychology lecture and at the beginning of class the professor came up to me and started talking to me in Swahili! She threw me for a quick loop when she asked me what my name was. I hesitated and then realized what she was asking. Phew. It was a nice chat in front of the entire class. I am the only azungu in the class, but she also informed me in our chat that I could take my exam in December! Whoo hoo!
Thursday, October 23, 2008
Saturday, October 11, 2008
FINALLY....the infamous blog....
10/6/08
Juice…
I have suddenly stopped drinking the ‘fresh’ squeezed juice and Haika has taken notice. So, this morning while I am eating alone, she asks me, ‘why?’ Ah, well, honestly I didn’t stop drinking it because of the water, but she is mixing fruit in there I don’t like. So without Amanda I sit trying to say.. ninapenda nanasi (I like pineapple), ninapenda chungua (I like oranges) hapana (no) mango, hapana passion. [By the way, I barely know how to speak Swahili let alone spell it, so I am typing it phonetically how it sounds to me!] Yeah, that’s the best I can do, but she understands! She immediately picks up the oranges and wants to go make me some… hapana hapana hapana asante! Oi! A banana, toast, and water will be just fine believe it or not! Hell, that’s more than I eat at home! I am the weird American who never wants to eat and Amanda is the polar opposite American who always eats! Sheesh, keep stuffing the Americans though! Mama Dorica said she wanted to send me home nice and fat…umm Mama Dorica I am already fat and I would rather go home a few pounds lighter, eh?
School….
Ah, so today we were suppose to start classes, right? Ah, alas, it’s October and you think I am going to bring you good news? Well, baba dropped me off at 8:30 and I sat outside the classroom waiting patiently for my very first class to start. As I was sitting there I began to realize, I might actually have to take notes since professors won’t be posting their slides online. Lacey, write notes?! Get serious kids! What shall I do, but that will figure its self out. Anyhow, I mingle my way into the classroom accompanied by the local birds and a slight few other students. Since I already stand out like a sore thumb, I decide I will sit in the third row—close enough to the professor so I can hear since all doors and windows are open for our lovely fresh air! Anyways, to my luck, the professor starts talking in Swahili! You must be joking right?! After a few minutes I discover this is not a psychology class, but rather a law class. Seriously? So, I gather my crap and up pops the white kid in the third row and shimmy my way out. Deep breath. I will find my classes and hopefully next week, everything will be ok!
So, I hike back up to the wireless hotspot to find our other foreign friends. I look around online at the time tables in hopes of finding who the professors are because apparently this is the best way to find out when your class actually is. I have no such luck and decide (after having another minor heart attack about my required foreign language not being offered) to gather my belongings and hike home. It’s much easier going home as it’s all down hill, but I have another class at three so I will end up hiking back. Anyways, after trying to take a short cut and being chased by this enormous bug, I managed to find home…only to not be able to go in! Bug man is here and not the ordinary bug man, but a mosquito man. So, I sit on the porch with Haika and the other maid next door. They start molesting my smooth legs, which I happened to have shaved yesterday. They’re laughing, ranting, and giggling in Swahili. They want me to touch their hairy legs…thanks, but no thanks! Needless to say, my nose nearly falls off with this pesticide inhalation and I am not even in the house. I feel like at any moment it’s going to burst into blood accompanied by all my sneezing. So I am sitting under a tree listening to a mix of music while Haika records it on her phone/tries to take pictures of me? Forgot to mention—she wants to wash my bed sheets! If you haven’t already taken note on my hoarding issues with my soft clothes—I don’t want her to wash my sheets!!!!!! Please not my sheets! Hapana! Hapana! She’s replies, “whyy?” with a funny look. I pull my sheets out of the dirty clothes and set them on the table by the front door. Hapana sheets, sawaw?! I will bring them back to bed when I go inside and my sheets will remain unwashed for three months! I don’t care! So as we are sitting under the tree, to my surprise, the pesticide man walks around the house with his blower and mists the house with his pesticide. Guess what? Yeahh, there sit my sheets as I watch them get torched with the pesticide. ****! ****! ****! WHY?!!!! Why did it have to be my sheets! Ndyo, sawaw, now you can wash my sheets Haika. Argh, there is no way they will even be dry by tonight! I don’t want hard crunchy sheets. I don’t, I don’t!
::crying::pouting::
So after ranting and raving about the bug man ruining my precious sheets, I throw my laptop in my bag, grab my chair, and walk back over to the porch. Ahh, my inner OCD voice says, sniff the sheets, sniff the sheets Lacey, it’s worth a try and if you smell the pesticide then let Haika wash them. Oh, I love talking with my inner voice—it tells me to do a lot of good things such as type this blog for your sheer entertainment my dear reader. Sooo, I reach over to my pile of sheets and take a nice big whiff! Smells good to me! That’s right, you filthy sheets are coming back upstairs with me. You will not be washed and I will sleep in dirty pesticide sheets for two more months! HA! I am a happy kid again!
Sweat…
Well, I hiked to campus in the dead heat of the day after eating lunch with baba, walked into my second class of the day to find—no French class. Go figure. I turned around and decided time to go face Emmanuel in the links office. Thankfully he wasn’t there, but I do find mama Kaaya and we venture to the department head of the times tables. No luck. The man looks at me and says, “I don’t know, class should be there.” “Should I just try again tomorrow?” “Yeah, try again tomorrow and hopefully by next week everything will be sorted out.” “Ah, thanks, thanks a lot.” So, since three of my classes overlap tomorrow morning at 10 am, I am undecided which class I should give a try in hopes of finding a class. I have already taken calc-it’s just a class for credits. I need French to graduate-but have a strange feeling it won’t be there and the psych class seems to be a toss up. Maybe I will try French again.
I am sitting back at home titling my fingers wondering what I should do while listening to Mercy Me, Homesick. It’s an amazing song, but not exactly helping my crappy mood. It’s making me think of America, Grandma, God, friends, and I have it on REPEAT. Crystal’s favorite button, but it’s totally crushing what little ounce of happiness I can find at this moment in time. Should I walk to Milimani City and stand in line to use an ATM—maybe go to a movie after or find something in the store to entertain myself? I just want some sort of order, a little bit of routine would be nice! Sent Rachel a text—maybe I can meet her at the orphanage. Something, anything!
Amanda…
I am lying in bed when she walks in and turns on the lights…to her surprise she finds new sheets on her bed. I laugh knowing what happened today and am forced to roll over and enlighten her about Haika wanting to wash our sheets. For whatever reason though, Haika didn’t get the chance to do it today and brought Amanda’s sheets back up and put them in the dirty basket—so I point to her sheets. Amanda picks them up and sits on the edge of her bed like a little girl holding her favorite stuffed animal and says, ‘I don’t want her to wash my sheets either.’ So as she is holding her sheets I proceed to tell her how they were also mystified with the pesticide, but I still took my sheets back. She hesitates long and hard before ripping apart her flowery bed sheets Haika had ironed this afternoon and reapplying her dirty sheets.
10/7/08
Maybe today I will have better luck with classes? NOT! I am going to be back in America before classes ever start! I went to two classes this morning and the first was empty and the other was an accounting lecture. I should currently be hiking back to school but I am icing my knee and listening to homesick. Perhaps I should delete the song and stop torturing myself. No, that would only make sense. Anyways, my knee hasn’t hurt like this since my first two days in Dar. I had to sleep with it on a pillow last night after taking some medicine. I am assuming it wasn’t happy with the two hikes to campus yesterday because otherwise I haven’t been doing anything different. My first two days here we toured all of downtown Dar so that was probably a great deal of stress plus an acclimation to the weather. Anyhow, it should be back normal or as normal as it can get by tomorrow I hope.
Well, I ventured to the American embassy today…ALONE! Yeah, Amanda and I couldn’t go together because our schedules conflict and today was the last day we could go and send in our votes for presidency! Whoo hoo! It was so exciting to vote and totally worth the venture. When I say venture, let me explain. I have been out of shillings for quite some time and all I have is about 7 American dollars so I waited in a line for about thirty minutes to get some shillings. After, I collect my money and I hike to the road in hopes of finding a Bahjahjee. Of course when you need one, there isn’t any! My reasoning for taking one of these versus a daladala—I don’t know where to get off on the daladala. I can get to mwenge and from mwenge I can catch a daladala towards Posta or KKoo, but I don’t know when to scream and tell them I want off! So, a Bahjahjee will take me right where I need to go. Anyhow, I finally find me a Bahjahjee and tell him I want to go to the Embassy and I ask him how much it will cost. He says 10. I pause for a moment and say 1,000 or 10,000 and he says, one zero zero zero. So a thousand—wow, that’s a deal and I hop on board! He starts heading in the right direction before stopping to ask someone who speaks English where exactly I want to go. Then he turns around and starts heading towards Umbungo. Oh no, what did those two Tanzanians just say and where is he really taking me. That, my friends, was my initial thought. I don’t understand the language and I don’t know my way around well enough, should I go home? No, no I have to vote. So, I tell him to STOP and turn back around towards Mwenge. I say to him, Mwenge to Posta. Just take me to Posta and I will walk the rest of the way. Well, he keeps trying to talk to me and I keep saying sijui repetitively which translates to ‘I don’t know.’ How vulnerable do I look and hell, at this point, feel. I have over a 130,000 shillings on me because I just went to the bank, I can’t speak a lick of Swahili, and all I can tell him is Posta. So he seems to be heading in the right direction, but I am not entirely sure as he is taking back routes. I feel safer on main roads where I can see the daladala’s passing by, but I sit and enjoy my ride. We approach a familiar looking intersection and I motion him with my hands to turn right. He hesitates, but I keep insisting I know where I am at and I want to go right. So right he turns and wrong I was! I thought the embassy was on the next corner, but nope. So he stops and I start laughing while saying, posta, posta, posta. So he starts driving again and I sit back for the adventure. We pass by the ocean, Steers, the little Vegas building, but no Embassy. He pulls into this fairly nice looking hotel and says, posta! Well, Mr. this isn’t the Posta I have come to know in the past 3 weeks so I am not getting out of your bahjahjee yet. This is a completely foreign place! So, he finds him some taxi friends and tells them what’s happening. They ask me where I want to go and I reply, US Embassy! They start laughing and talking in Swahili and give the poor man directions. We take off and not to my surprise, pass the ocean again and many other places we had cruised by previously before he turns down this awkward street and drives for a few more minutes before pulling over and shutting off his moped. My thought—oh shit, I should have had him take me home! He says, here! Um, no, this isn’t the Embassy either and I am not getting off here because I don’t know where I am at. At this point, I am wondering if I should tell him to just take me back to the University and I’ll try a daladala or should I keep going with this man. Again, no I must vote so as he is pointing up towards these houses, I tell him no and he starts his moped back up and heads straight. Just moments later I am yelling, stop! I see the guards and the Embassy! Alas! I go to pay him and I hand him 5000 and he says 10. Are you serious? 10,000? I thought you said 1000, but I didn’t try and bargain anything as I had been driving this poor man all over Dar for nearly 45 minutes trying to find the Embassy. So anyways, I finally get to vote and leave the embassy against my will. I love the Embassy—the toilets are so Americanized that you don’t even flush them. Anyhow, I am walking out and heading towards the daladala station (I can get myself home on a daladala, just not to places) when there comes my previous bahjahjee driver! He stops and I tell him I want to go to back to the school, but for 5000. He agrees and brings me home safely. So despite being totally ripped off from the bahjahjee, I like to think of it as a whole. I spent 15,000 shillings for a ride to and from the embassy which breaks down to approximately 7,500 shillings per way. Baba said it should cost about 3,000 so I paid double, but that’s what I get for being an American and not knowing their language. I spent roughly 15 American dollars to get my vote in and it better make a difference! Oh, and when I got home, I went to get a coke from the house Haika always buys them from. I give the lady a 5000 and she gives me back 3500 and a coke. I thought she gave me back 4,500 which was still technically wrong, but not a significant amount off. I walk home and look at my money again when I notice she totally was off in giving me back change! These Tanzanians are taking full advantage of me! So I tell Haika and she walks back to the house with me, says something in Swahili and gets me my 1000 shillings back! Go Haika! The coke was supposed to cost 400 and I paid 1500! Whoa! They still owe me a hundred and Haika said they would give it back to me later. From now on, I will let Haika get me drinks—I was just trying to make her life a tad easier.
10/8/08
Posta…
Another big story: Warning!
After telling Mama Dorica yesterday about my troubles of getting to the US Embassy, she insisted on me taking a taxi driver that was a friend of theirs. So, after battling this out through the evening with her saying I can take a dala dala, let me pay, etc I decided to just go with it.
I wake up this morning to Haika asking me if I am going to school. It’s not even 7 am, but I had tossed and turned since the sun came around at 6 am! Yeah, way too early for me and I don’t have my black out shades. So anyways, I tell Haika yes, school and eventually get up to go and try to find this class. Well, it’s Wednesday and again, I have yet to discover a class, but instead of worrying about my classes today, I am ecstatic to pick up my box from Posta! I rush home and text Mama Dorica who then calls for the driver to come and pick me up. Whoa, front door service with air conditioning. Could I ask for more…other than my package at the post office!?! Ah, totally stoked as Amanda might say.
I arrive at Posta and head inside to collect my goods and can hardly keep a smile off my face. For a slight minute I thought they weren’t going to give me the box because it was for ‘Mabel Kaaya.’ I would not have been a graceful, looking American had I not gotten my box, but with a phone call to Mama Dorica they released the box. If my smile wasn’t big enough before they brought out the box, it was definitely visible after they brought it out. I was expecting the malaria pills and not too much more, especially since this wasn’t the box from Crystal. They make me pay for it and then walk me over to customs and make me pay another fee. Who knew, but my thought, are you serious? Totally wiped me empty of all my shillings and thank goodness I wasn’t paying for the taxi because otherwise I would have been in trouble and standing in line at the bank takes forever. The box was already smashed and bent out of shape, but what do they do to it at customs—hack it open and start shuffling through the items. Ah, thanks, appreciate that. I don’t notice much, but can’t wait to get into the car and take a better look.
Let me set the scene—a white foreigner locked in the back of a taxi with a box. Driver, driving and dodging other cars.
I notice my favorite sweater has been packed in this box—the one I forgot and only noticed after arriving at the airport and boarding my palne! I reach in to remove it and notice it is wet and smelly. A little bummed, but I yank it out.
Big deep breath for what is about to occur. I have a minor phobia and some might argue it’s more than just minor, but I like to think of it as minor. So out comes my wet, stinky sweater with a GINORMOUS ROACH! I freak and maybe freak is an understatement. My heart jumps out of my chess, I scream loud enough that every pedestrian could probably hear me through the windows, and I leap onto the middle consul with my left foot while my right foot lands on his back seat and my ass hits the roof. Get me out of this locked car before I break down into tears over a cockroach. Ridiculous, I know and I probably created a minor heart attack for the driver as he swerves off the road, unlocks the door, and out leaps the white person. I am looking at the box, holding back my tears, calming my heart, and refusing to get in the car until he gets that nasty ass creature out!
Big sigh, it’s okay, it’s gone, I take a deep breath, remind myself it is just a bug, and I get back in the car. I smash myself as far away from the box as possible (where ever there is a mama roach, there shall be lots of babies somewhere, usually) and I begin to chuckle at how foolish I just looked. Moments later as I am apologizing to the driver in English, he asks ‘what country are you from?’ Ughhh, America I reply… Yeah, sorry about that reputation folks, but Lacey and roaches are not a good combination.
I arrive home and very cautiously yank the box out of the car and drop it on the front porch. I try to wipe off the seat and middle consul where you could clearly see I jumped too, and then apologized again and said fair well to the poor gentleman. I yell for Haika and decide it’s best she helps me scope out the box for anymore roaches. Coast is clear, don’t know why the inside of my package was wet as there was nothing inside to cause the damage, and the outside of the box had not been wet. It’s a mystery, but nonetheless the damaged seemed to be minimal. I am more than nervous to pick up Crystal’s box of food because heaven knows how many roaches will be in a box of just food goodies!
For those of you who know me, these are the two incidents that kept reoccurring during my drive home after I had the minor scare with the roach—first incident was sophomore year. I was in the back of Golda’s Tiburon? It’s a two door car, and that’s all the really matters. It’s dark and Crystal is driving while Golda is lighting fireworks and tossing them out the window. Is this what normal high school kids do? Eh! Well, she lit one and didn’t quite have time to throw it out the window so she tosses it back to me because that’s what her gut instinct told her to do? Once again I am stuck in the back of a moving car while a firework show is happening at my feet. Miss those carefree days. Second incident was about two years ago, if that. Took the dogs to the beach and Crystal’s dog drank too much salt water. First he had a liquid waterfall come out of his ass which conveniently was sitting on my shoulder as he enjoyed the fresh air out of the window. I thought Crystal was being a smartass and pouring warm water on my shoulders, but no it was coming straight from her dog’s butt. After I gag momentarily and shove the dog around we finally find a gas station where a bunch of females jump out and start gagging—I vomit. We get back in the car and I make her hold the dog in the back. He decides to stick his head over the middle consul…moments later he starts barfing chunks of potatoes, meat, carrots, etc all over Lauren and I. Yeah, Crystal fed him some left over roast before the beach. Fabulous!
Now if the taxi driver new this is why I was laughing so much today after I nearly broke down in tears over a roach, he might not think American’s were all crazy like me…or would he?
10/10/08
So yesterday was another holiday, therefore I had no luck with classes followed up my today’s luck. I am totally lost with why ALL my classes don’t exist, but never fails. I am slowly losing motivation to hike to campus in hopes of finding a lecture. Amanda seems to be having all the luck. Finally have internet today, which is why I am able to post this blog. Yeah, it was a long blog and be thankful I stopped typing! Amanda and I had a little adventure yesterday, but I will let her write about it. My blog is already too long. I had the pleasure of running into Emmanuel today on my way to class. Well, there was not class, but nonetheless that’s what I was attempting to do. Anyways, he says to me, “I SMS’ed you. What happened? I thought maybe I gave the wrong impression?” Sigh, I had to lie and respond with, “no, I just need to get a voucher. I have no minutes.” That turned into a ten minute long lecture of where I can get a voucher and what I have been doing. I had to finally say, I am going to be late if I don’t start walking
10/11/08
The internet stopped working yesterday before I could post the blog. Sorry. I get a little frustrated with it at times, but I am learning to accept it. Last night was interesting…that’s all I will type about that and today we are headed to the beach! Whoo hoo!
Juice…
I have suddenly stopped drinking the ‘fresh’ squeezed juice and Haika has taken notice. So, this morning while I am eating alone, she asks me, ‘why?’ Ah, well, honestly I didn’t stop drinking it because of the water, but she is mixing fruit in there I don’t like. So without Amanda I sit trying to say.. ninapenda nanasi (I like pineapple), ninapenda chungua (I like oranges) hapana (no) mango, hapana passion. [By the way, I barely know how to speak Swahili let alone spell it, so I am typing it phonetically how it sounds to me!] Yeah, that’s the best I can do, but she understands! She immediately picks up the oranges and wants to go make me some… hapana hapana hapana asante! Oi! A banana, toast, and water will be just fine believe it or not! Hell, that’s more than I eat at home! I am the weird American who never wants to eat and Amanda is the polar opposite American who always eats! Sheesh, keep stuffing the Americans though! Mama Dorica said she wanted to send me home nice and fat…umm Mama Dorica I am already fat and I would rather go home a few pounds lighter, eh?
School….
Ah, so today we were suppose to start classes, right? Ah, alas, it’s October and you think I am going to bring you good news? Well, baba dropped me off at 8:30 and I sat outside the classroom waiting patiently for my very first class to start. As I was sitting there I began to realize, I might actually have to take notes since professors won’t be posting their slides online. Lacey, write notes?! Get serious kids! What shall I do, but that will figure its self out. Anyhow, I mingle my way into the classroom accompanied by the local birds and a slight few other students. Since I already stand out like a sore thumb, I decide I will sit in the third row—close enough to the professor so I can hear since all doors and windows are open for our lovely fresh air! Anyways, to my luck, the professor starts talking in Swahili! You must be joking right?! After a few minutes I discover this is not a psychology class, but rather a law class. Seriously? So, I gather my crap and up pops the white kid in the third row and shimmy my way out. Deep breath. I will find my classes and hopefully next week, everything will be ok!
So, I hike back up to the wireless hotspot to find our other foreign friends. I look around online at the time tables in hopes of finding who the professors are because apparently this is the best way to find out when your class actually is. I have no such luck and decide (after having another minor heart attack about my required foreign language not being offered) to gather my belongings and hike home. It’s much easier going home as it’s all down hill, but I have another class at three so I will end up hiking back. Anyways, after trying to take a short cut and being chased by this enormous bug, I managed to find home…only to not be able to go in! Bug man is here and not the ordinary bug man, but a mosquito man. So, I sit on the porch with Haika and the other maid next door. They start molesting my smooth legs, which I happened to have shaved yesterday. They’re laughing, ranting, and giggling in Swahili. They want me to touch their hairy legs…thanks, but no thanks! Needless to say, my nose nearly falls off with this pesticide inhalation and I am not even in the house. I feel like at any moment it’s going to burst into blood accompanied by all my sneezing. So I am sitting under a tree listening to a mix of music while Haika records it on her phone/tries to take pictures of me? Forgot to mention—she wants to wash my bed sheets! If you haven’t already taken note on my hoarding issues with my soft clothes—I don’t want her to wash my sheets!!!!!! Please not my sheets! Hapana! Hapana! She’s replies, “whyy?” with a funny look. I pull my sheets out of the dirty clothes and set them on the table by the front door. Hapana sheets, sawaw?! I will bring them back to bed when I go inside and my sheets will remain unwashed for three months! I don’t care! So as we are sitting under the tree, to my surprise, the pesticide man walks around the house with his blower and mists the house with his pesticide. Guess what? Yeahh, there sit my sheets as I watch them get torched with the pesticide. ****! ****! ****! WHY?!!!! Why did it have to be my sheets! Ndyo, sawaw, now you can wash my sheets Haika. Argh, there is no way they will even be dry by tonight! I don’t want hard crunchy sheets. I don’t, I don’t!
::crying::pouting::
So after ranting and raving about the bug man ruining my precious sheets, I throw my laptop in my bag, grab my chair, and walk back over to the porch. Ahh, my inner OCD voice says, sniff the sheets, sniff the sheets Lacey, it’s worth a try and if you smell the pesticide then let Haika wash them. Oh, I love talking with my inner voice—it tells me to do a lot of good things such as type this blog for your sheer entertainment my dear reader. Sooo, I reach over to my pile of sheets and take a nice big whiff! Smells good to me! That’s right, you filthy sheets are coming back upstairs with me. You will not be washed and I will sleep in dirty pesticide sheets for two more months! HA! I am a happy kid again!
Sweat…
Well, I hiked to campus in the dead heat of the day after eating lunch with baba, walked into my second class of the day to find—no French class. Go figure. I turned around and decided time to go face Emmanuel in the links office. Thankfully he wasn’t there, but I do find mama Kaaya and we venture to the department head of the times tables. No luck. The man looks at me and says, “I don’t know, class should be there.” “Should I just try again tomorrow?” “Yeah, try again tomorrow and hopefully by next week everything will be sorted out.” “Ah, thanks, thanks a lot.” So, since three of my classes overlap tomorrow morning at 10 am, I am undecided which class I should give a try in hopes of finding a class. I have already taken calc-it’s just a class for credits. I need French to graduate-but have a strange feeling it won’t be there and the psych class seems to be a toss up. Maybe I will try French again.
I am sitting back at home titling my fingers wondering what I should do while listening to Mercy Me, Homesick. It’s an amazing song, but not exactly helping my crappy mood. It’s making me think of America, Grandma, God, friends, and I have it on REPEAT. Crystal’s favorite button, but it’s totally crushing what little ounce of happiness I can find at this moment in time. Should I walk to Milimani City and stand in line to use an ATM—maybe go to a movie after or find something in the store to entertain myself? I just want some sort of order, a little bit of routine would be nice! Sent Rachel a text—maybe I can meet her at the orphanage. Something, anything!
Amanda…
I am lying in bed when she walks in and turns on the lights…to her surprise she finds new sheets on her bed. I laugh knowing what happened today and am forced to roll over and enlighten her about Haika wanting to wash our sheets. For whatever reason though, Haika didn’t get the chance to do it today and brought Amanda’s sheets back up and put them in the dirty basket—so I point to her sheets. Amanda picks them up and sits on the edge of her bed like a little girl holding her favorite stuffed animal and says, ‘I don’t want her to wash my sheets either.’ So as she is holding her sheets I proceed to tell her how they were also mystified with the pesticide, but I still took my sheets back. She hesitates long and hard before ripping apart her flowery bed sheets Haika had ironed this afternoon and reapplying her dirty sheets.
10/7/08
Maybe today I will have better luck with classes? NOT! I am going to be back in America before classes ever start! I went to two classes this morning and the first was empty and the other was an accounting lecture. I should currently be hiking back to school but I am icing my knee and listening to homesick. Perhaps I should delete the song and stop torturing myself. No, that would only make sense. Anyways, my knee hasn’t hurt like this since my first two days in Dar. I had to sleep with it on a pillow last night after taking some medicine. I am assuming it wasn’t happy with the two hikes to campus yesterday because otherwise I haven’t been doing anything different. My first two days here we toured all of downtown Dar so that was probably a great deal of stress plus an acclimation to the weather. Anyhow, it should be back normal or as normal as it can get by tomorrow I hope.
Well, I ventured to the American embassy today…ALONE! Yeah, Amanda and I couldn’t go together because our schedules conflict and today was the last day we could go and send in our votes for presidency! Whoo hoo! It was so exciting to vote and totally worth the venture. When I say venture, let me explain. I have been out of shillings for quite some time and all I have is about 7 American dollars so I waited in a line for about thirty minutes to get some shillings. After, I collect my money and I hike to the road in hopes of finding a Bahjahjee. Of course when you need one, there isn’t any! My reasoning for taking one of these versus a daladala—I don’t know where to get off on the daladala. I can get to mwenge and from mwenge I can catch a daladala towards Posta or KKoo, but I don’t know when to scream and tell them I want off! So, a Bahjahjee will take me right where I need to go. Anyhow, I finally find me a Bahjahjee and tell him I want to go to the Embassy and I ask him how much it will cost. He says 10. I pause for a moment and say 1,000 or 10,000 and he says, one zero zero zero. So a thousand—wow, that’s a deal and I hop on board! He starts heading in the right direction before stopping to ask someone who speaks English where exactly I want to go. Then he turns around and starts heading towards Umbungo. Oh no, what did those two Tanzanians just say and where is he really taking me. That, my friends, was my initial thought. I don’t understand the language and I don’t know my way around well enough, should I go home? No, no I have to vote. So, I tell him to STOP and turn back around towards Mwenge. I say to him, Mwenge to Posta. Just take me to Posta and I will walk the rest of the way. Well, he keeps trying to talk to me and I keep saying sijui repetitively which translates to ‘I don’t know.’ How vulnerable do I look and hell, at this point, feel. I have over a 130,000 shillings on me because I just went to the bank, I can’t speak a lick of Swahili, and all I can tell him is Posta. So he seems to be heading in the right direction, but I am not entirely sure as he is taking back routes. I feel safer on main roads where I can see the daladala’s passing by, but I sit and enjoy my ride. We approach a familiar looking intersection and I motion him with my hands to turn right. He hesitates, but I keep insisting I know where I am at and I want to go right. So right he turns and wrong I was! I thought the embassy was on the next corner, but nope. So he stops and I start laughing while saying, posta, posta, posta. So he starts driving again and I sit back for the adventure. We pass by the ocean, Steers, the little Vegas building, but no Embassy. He pulls into this fairly nice looking hotel and says, posta! Well, Mr. this isn’t the Posta I have come to know in the past 3 weeks so I am not getting out of your bahjahjee yet. This is a completely foreign place! So, he finds him some taxi friends and tells them what’s happening. They ask me where I want to go and I reply, US Embassy! They start laughing and talking in Swahili and give the poor man directions. We take off and not to my surprise, pass the ocean again and many other places we had cruised by previously before he turns down this awkward street and drives for a few more minutes before pulling over and shutting off his moped. My thought—oh shit, I should have had him take me home! He says, here! Um, no, this isn’t the Embassy either and I am not getting off here because I don’t know where I am at. At this point, I am wondering if I should tell him to just take me back to the University and I’ll try a daladala or should I keep going with this man. Again, no I must vote so as he is pointing up towards these houses, I tell him no and he starts his moped back up and heads straight. Just moments later I am yelling, stop! I see the guards and the Embassy! Alas! I go to pay him and I hand him 5000 and he says 10. Are you serious? 10,000? I thought you said 1000, but I didn’t try and bargain anything as I had been driving this poor man all over Dar for nearly 45 minutes trying to find the Embassy. So anyways, I finally get to vote and leave the embassy against my will. I love the Embassy—the toilets are so Americanized that you don’t even flush them. Anyhow, I am walking out and heading towards the daladala station (I can get myself home on a daladala, just not to places) when there comes my previous bahjahjee driver! He stops and I tell him I want to go to back to the school, but for 5000. He agrees and brings me home safely. So despite being totally ripped off from the bahjahjee, I like to think of it as a whole. I spent 15,000 shillings for a ride to and from the embassy which breaks down to approximately 7,500 shillings per way. Baba said it should cost about 3,000 so I paid double, but that’s what I get for being an American and not knowing their language. I spent roughly 15 American dollars to get my vote in and it better make a difference! Oh, and when I got home, I went to get a coke from the house Haika always buys them from. I give the lady a 5000 and she gives me back 3500 and a coke. I thought she gave me back 4,500 which was still technically wrong, but not a significant amount off. I walk home and look at my money again when I notice she totally was off in giving me back change! These Tanzanians are taking full advantage of me! So I tell Haika and she walks back to the house with me, says something in Swahili and gets me my 1000 shillings back! Go Haika! The coke was supposed to cost 400 and I paid 1500! Whoa! They still owe me a hundred and Haika said they would give it back to me later. From now on, I will let Haika get me drinks—I was just trying to make her life a tad easier.
10/8/08
Posta…
Another big story: Warning!
After telling Mama Dorica yesterday about my troubles of getting to the US Embassy, she insisted on me taking a taxi driver that was a friend of theirs. So, after battling this out through the evening with her saying I can take a dala dala, let me pay, etc I decided to just go with it.
I wake up this morning to Haika asking me if I am going to school. It’s not even 7 am, but I had tossed and turned since the sun came around at 6 am! Yeah, way too early for me and I don’t have my black out shades. So anyways, I tell Haika yes, school and eventually get up to go and try to find this class. Well, it’s Wednesday and again, I have yet to discover a class, but instead of worrying about my classes today, I am ecstatic to pick up my box from Posta! I rush home and text Mama Dorica who then calls for the driver to come and pick me up. Whoa, front door service with air conditioning. Could I ask for more…other than my package at the post office!?! Ah, totally stoked as Amanda might say.
I arrive at Posta and head inside to collect my goods and can hardly keep a smile off my face. For a slight minute I thought they weren’t going to give me the box because it was for ‘Mabel Kaaya.’ I would not have been a graceful, looking American had I not gotten my box, but with a phone call to Mama Dorica they released the box. If my smile wasn’t big enough before they brought out the box, it was definitely visible after they brought it out. I was expecting the malaria pills and not too much more, especially since this wasn’t the box from Crystal. They make me pay for it and then walk me over to customs and make me pay another fee. Who knew, but my thought, are you serious? Totally wiped me empty of all my shillings and thank goodness I wasn’t paying for the taxi because otherwise I would have been in trouble and standing in line at the bank takes forever. The box was already smashed and bent out of shape, but what do they do to it at customs—hack it open and start shuffling through the items. Ah, thanks, appreciate that. I don’t notice much, but can’t wait to get into the car and take a better look.
Let me set the scene—a white foreigner locked in the back of a taxi with a box. Driver, driving and dodging other cars.
I notice my favorite sweater has been packed in this box—the one I forgot and only noticed after arriving at the airport and boarding my palne! I reach in to remove it and notice it is wet and smelly. A little bummed, but I yank it out.
Big deep breath for what is about to occur. I have a minor phobia and some might argue it’s more than just minor, but I like to think of it as minor. So out comes my wet, stinky sweater with a GINORMOUS ROACH! I freak and maybe freak is an understatement. My heart jumps out of my chess, I scream loud enough that every pedestrian could probably hear me through the windows, and I leap onto the middle consul with my left foot while my right foot lands on his back seat and my ass hits the roof. Get me out of this locked car before I break down into tears over a cockroach. Ridiculous, I know and I probably created a minor heart attack for the driver as he swerves off the road, unlocks the door, and out leaps the white person. I am looking at the box, holding back my tears, calming my heart, and refusing to get in the car until he gets that nasty ass creature out!
Big sigh, it’s okay, it’s gone, I take a deep breath, remind myself it is just a bug, and I get back in the car. I smash myself as far away from the box as possible (where ever there is a mama roach, there shall be lots of babies somewhere, usually) and I begin to chuckle at how foolish I just looked. Moments later as I am apologizing to the driver in English, he asks ‘what country are you from?’ Ughhh, America I reply… Yeah, sorry about that reputation folks, but Lacey and roaches are not a good combination.
I arrive home and very cautiously yank the box out of the car and drop it on the front porch. I try to wipe off the seat and middle consul where you could clearly see I jumped too, and then apologized again and said fair well to the poor gentleman. I yell for Haika and decide it’s best she helps me scope out the box for anymore roaches. Coast is clear, don’t know why the inside of my package was wet as there was nothing inside to cause the damage, and the outside of the box had not been wet. It’s a mystery, but nonetheless the damaged seemed to be minimal. I am more than nervous to pick up Crystal’s box of food because heaven knows how many roaches will be in a box of just food goodies!
For those of you who know me, these are the two incidents that kept reoccurring during my drive home after I had the minor scare with the roach—first incident was sophomore year. I was in the back of Golda’s Tiburon? It’s a two door car, and that’s all the really matters. It’s dark and Crystal is driving while Golda is lighting fireworks and tossing them out the window. Is this what normal high school kids do? Eh! Well, she lit one and didn’t quite have time to throw it out the window so she tosses it back to me because that’s what her gut instinct told her to do? Once again I am stuck in the back of a moving car while a firework show is happening at my feet. Miss those carefree days. Second incident was about two years ago, if that. Took the dogs to the beach and Crystal’s dog drank too much salt water. First he had a liquid waterfall come out of his ass which conveniently was sitting on my shoulder as he enjoyed the fresh air out of the window. I thought Crystal was being a smartass and pouring warm water on my shoulders, but no it was coming straight from her dog’s butt. After I gag momentarily and shove the dog around we finally find a gas station where a bunch of females jump out and start gagging—I vomit. We get back in the car and I make her hold the dog in the back. He decides to stick his head over the middle consul…moments later he starts barfing chunks of potatoes, meat, carrots, etc all over Lauren and I. Yeah, Crystal fed him some left over roast before the beach. Fabulous!
Now if the taxi driver new this is why I was laughing so much today after I nearly broke down in tears over a roach, he might not think American’s were all crazy like me…or would he?
10/10/08
So yesterday was another holiday, therefore I had no luck with classes followed up my today’s luck. I am totally lost with why ALL my classes don’t exist, but never fails. I am slowly losing motivation to hike to campus in hopes of finding a lecture. Amanda seems to be having all the luck. Finally have internet today, which is why I am able to post this blog. Yeah, it was a long blog and be thankful I stopped typing! Amanda and I had a little adventure yesterday, but I will let her write about it. My blog is already too long. I had the pleasure of running into Emmanuel today on my way to class. Well, there was not class, but nonetheless that’s what I was attempting to do. Anyways, he says to me, “I SMS’ed you. What happened? I thought maybe I gave the wrong impression?” Sigh, I had to lie and respond with, “no, I just need to get a voucher. I have no minutes.” That turned into a ten minute long lecture of where I can get a voucher and what I have been doing. I had to finally say, I am going to be late if I don’t start walking
10/11/08
The internet stopped working yesterday before I could post the blog. Sorry. I get a little frustrated with it at times, but I am learning to accept it. Last night was interesting…that’s all I will type about that and today we are headed to the beach! Whoo hoo!
Monday, October 6, 2008
HELPPPP!!!!
10/3/08
Sad tummy…
So a few days ago (can’t remember exactly when) I was complaining to Amanda about my frequent restroom trips and I must say, thankfully since I have been here I haven’t had any serious sickness (knock on wood). However, I have had a few irregular days per say and lucky ole Amanda always gets the pleasure of knowing. Anyhow, she suggests a possible reason-the fresh juice. I am not convinced it could be the juice. I mean, I have been eating the fruit since I have been here and nothing has happened. So what could possibly be wrong with the ‘fresh’ squeezed juice that Amanda so gracefully explained a few days ago to Haika? Well, I decided to watch Haika make it tonight and to my surprise she is NOT using bottled water. Go figure. I suppose I won’t end up dead in the bathroom if I start drinking their tap water now.
Well, that was my revelation I had tonight after eating dinner, but let’s talk about this morning…
Again, I awake before Amanda. That’s two days in a row and I think I should get some sort of applaud for that. Hell, I even went to bed later. So anyways, we rush out of the house with food stuffed in our mouths and a banana in hand, while telling Hakia not to worry. Such an American thing—eat on the go, but we were late. So we meet up with the other foreign Americans and begin piling into a daladala. We were headed off to the embassy to watch the debates. While standing to get into the embassy we met an American family who currently lives in Dar and is the pastor at a nearby Christian church. Everyone else seemed a little less interested, but I totally want to check out the church (it has AC!) and maybe get to know the family. They seem really sweet and even have a baby less than a year old. Ah, can’t get better than that. They offered to cook us some American food and handed us their card. Maybe next Sunday I will meet them for church and hang out at their house after. Hey, finally somewhere I might fit in! They even said their house has air—bonus!! I could get used to every Sunday after church hanging out in an air conditioned house and playing with a baby while devouring some good ole American food! I just really don’t know my way around Dar yet and certainly won’t venture out in the dark alone, but fear not! Anyhow, after the debates we managed to sneak into the cafeteria! We had to find us an escort and all he kept saying, ‘the food isn’t that great.’ Well, they had Heinz ketchup! That was a good start. I must say, my cheeseburger wasn’t all that yummy and Amanda and I decided we didn’t want fries as we had previously eaten a ton of potatoes the day before (our host family bought some American ketchup and we nearly used ¼ of the bottle while stuffing our faces with chips and having our own dialog with droll running down our chins). Anyhow, somehow we all managed to get French fries and they were also a tad of a let down. I am actually quite found of the fresh chips Haika makes along with out new found American ketchup! Despite my hamburger, everyone else seemed rather extremely happy with the food they had order. For the first time in three weeks I felt like an American, with a bunch of Americans, eating in the American embassy! Could I ask for anything more on my third week anniversary?! Ah, yes, Amanda and I ventured back to the movie theaters to watch Kung Fu Panda with a coke and some popcorn! I bought some honey—not sure what I will do with it, but it’s yummy and makes me happy for now. Since I don’t drink coffee or tea, Amanda wants me to mix it with hot water and drink honey water. I vaguely remember Crystal drinking something similar to this once in Utah when she was sick if I remember right, but I will give it a try one day. Oh, and still haven’t received the package Crystal sent. Great sadness, but no worries—I am eating plenty!
10/4/08
Sniff Test…
So my OCD is really kicking me in the butt and thankfully I don’t have a serious case of it-although that all depends on who you might ask. Maybe some of my crankiness stems from having to relinquish my ability of wearing fresh smelling clothes and taking nice hot showers twice daily. Seriously, when I awoke this morning I had a text, “how did you sleep?” Well my response was something along the lines of, ‘good, as good as one can sleep on a noisy boxy bed under a mosquito net with no AC.’ Yeah, real splendid and Amanda and I have conveniently forgotten to mention that sleeping under the net is about 5 degree’s hotter than sleeping outside the net. So the heifer I am went two nights without the net, but I have resorted back to my tent like princess bed after accumulating too many mosquito bites. I am not entire sure they are from not sleeping under the net, but until I heal I will use my net and try again another day. Anyways, before I went on a side tangent, my original thought process of explaining my OCD behaviors is the fact I can’t stop staring at my pile of clothes. I have about half my clothes unpacked (I packed WAYY too many) and the other half sit so beautifully folded and stacked on a shelf. Not! I don’t even have separate piles like, here are my shirts...here are my shorts…here are my pants…nope, they are all just there. Some are still actually clean (I am hoarding my clean clothes! Shhh…I have a very difficult time wearing them. I guess I want to keep them clean? Maybe it makes me feel better? Maybe I like the idea that I still have a soft shirt? Maybe if I use one shirt a week it’ll last me till December?) and some are dirty, but still wearable. Yes, they have passed the sniff test! I guess I would rather be a little stinky and in soft clothes than have Haika wash them and turn them crunchy! My thought process is so wacked, but nonetheless there is no rhyme or reason to my stash of clothes and it’s driving me wild! I want my shirts, shorts, pants, socks, etc to all have their own little home, but there they sit. Sigh. So, how does an item of clothing fail the sniff test you might wonder? Well, depending on the article of clothing such as a shirt—I sniff the armpits and if I can still smell the deodorant than life is good and it finds itself a home somewhere on the shelf if not, it ends up in the ‘dirty’ basket. Every time I do this, I laugh slightly to myself and wonder if I should keep this technique when I return home?!
Sick…
It’s been a lazy day and quite honestly, I am driving myself crazy. I didn’t feel like hiking to campus today with Amanda. I really didn’t have enough typed and figured why submit myself to such a torturous uphill hike? Anyhow, I skipped breakfast and decided to be a bum and lay on my squeaky springy bed. Amanda totally got the better bed…it’s raised and it’s quite! Damn her and her stilted silent bed! Anyways, Debbie comes up to our room around 1 and asks me if I am ‘sick, daddy wants to know because you haven’t come downstairs.’ Argh, no I am not sick I just lack the social skills Amanda has and I prefer to hibernate in my room where I know it’s safe with my phone and book. Speaking of which, Emmanuel won’t stop texting me! I need to really stop listening to Amanda. She assures me, after I give her a wide eyed look when he grabbed my arm, that it’s ok and nothing more than a cultural thing. Hell, this would be awkward for me if I was in America, but I pretend like everything is kosher. Ha! When our other foreign friends showed up (thanks to Amanda—she has finally done something right!) he finally released my arm to greet them. Big sigh of relief…I have never been so grateful to see all the other foreigners and thanks to our other American friends I am now aware that it’s NOT culturally ok! I have been ignoring his texts or saying I am busy, but if it continues perhaps I will take matters up mama Kaaya because this could make for a very long awkward two months especially since he works in the links office which is where all the foreigners go!
10/5/08
Classes…
So classes are supposed to start tomorrow. Ya, lets hope! Baba is going to drop me at my first class because it’s on his way. Yes, it saves me a hike! Whoo hoo…seriously, I am really excited because the hike to school is all up hill and totally sucks ass!! Although, I have a funny feeling there won’t be a class or at least not the right class I am looking for. Who knows, but we shall see tomorrow morning! I mapped out my class schedule today and though it makes very little sense, three of my classes overlap on one day. How is that possible? Ah, I guess that’s a mystery left up to the African school system. I am not worried though because I have another funny feeling that this is not really when the classes are or where they really might be located, but I really hope classes start tomorrow. Sitting around watching monkeys play outside and messaging on my phone is very entertaining, but I am afraid it’s getting old and boring.
Music…
How is my little music man doing? Is he still seeing Clare or does Tracy need to come collect my piano?! ;) Ah, I am listening to Fantasia hence my musical thoughts…I need some new music. Ok, I don’t need but I am waiting for blank CD’s to snatch some music from Amanda and maybe some other foreign students! Anyhow, it’s 9 pm and I have had a very successful day of doing nothing! I am trying to enjoy my free time, but also failing miserably at this social game!
Oh, before I forget…yesterday at the little birthday celebration they had for Debbie, mama Dorica asks Amanda and I if we want to attend this casual dinner party for a family member’s graduation. We agree figuring we have no other plans and nothing better to do. Well, I almost backed out, but figured I would suck it up and go. We get dressed and head up to campus with mama Dorica. Ha, these Africans are funny people because it was more than just casual! I felt like I was at another wedding! Amanda conveniently gets a phone call from her dad and leaves me alone. I am a big kid, I can handle this, but Amanda is my side kick. She does all the socializing while I nod and smile! Anyhow, she comes back and to her surprise I managed to find her some good ole Tusker beer—yuck! Anyhow, we decide we feel out of place and this event might actually last hours so Amanda decides to ask baba if we can catch a daladala back home. It’s not far and we’re actually still on campus, but baba says he will take us. So he drives us home and follows us inside telling Haika to feed the Americans (she thought she had the night off!) and he goes upstairs to catch the new soccer game. Ah, that was his only motive for taking us home! Ha ha! Anyhow, while we are eating Haika wants to play with Amanda’s camera. The two of us totally reinforced her behaviors which lead to a very interesting night. It was pretty priceless, but totally left Amanda a little agitated!
Ok, that’s all for tonight! Hope to post this tomorrow sometime…so until then…oh, wait…Emmanuel texted me AGAIN…it reads…
“HI! I took to the place, I took three tins of cocacola, I danced until 10pm, I took my way back to sleep on campus, it was nice. How was the birthday party?”
I have not responded to his last THREE messages! HELPPPPP!
Sad tummy…
So a few days ago (can’t remember exactly when) I was complaining to Amanda about my frequent restroom trips and I must say, thankfully since I have been here I haven’t had any serious sickness (knock on wood). However, I have had a few irregular days per say and lucky ole Amanda always gets the pleasure of knowing. Anyhow, she suggests a possible reason-the fresh juice. I am not convinced it could be the juice. I mean, I have been eating the fruit since I have been here and nothing has happened. So what could possibly be wrong with the ‘fresh’ squeezed juice that Amanda so gracefully explained a few days ago to Haika? Well, I decided to watch Haika make it tonight and to my surprise she is NOT using bottled water. Go figure. I suppose I won’t end up dead in the bathroom if I start drinking their tap water now.
Well, that was my revelation I had tonight after eating dinner, but let’s talk about this morning…
Again, I awake before Amanda. That’s two days in a row and I think I should get some sort of applaud for that. Hell, I even went to bed later. So anyways, we rush out of the house with food stuffed in our mouths and a banana in hand, while telling Hakia not to worry. Such an American thing—eat on the go, but we were late. So we meet up with the other foreign Americans and begin piling into a daladala. We were headed off to the embassy to watch the debates. While standing to get into the embassy we met an American family who currently lives in Dar and is the pastor at a nearby Christian church. Everyone else seemed a little less interested, but I totally want to check out the church (it has AC!) and maybe get to know the family. They seem really sweet and even have a baby less than a year old. Ah, can’t get better than that. They offered to cook us some American food and handed us their card. Maybe next Sunday I will meet them for church and hang out at their house after. Hey, finally somewhere I might fit in! They even said their house has air—bonus!! I could get used to every Sunday after church hanging out in an air conditioned house and playing with a baby while devouring some good ole American food! I just really don’t know my way around Dar yet and certainly won’t venture out in the dark alone, but fear not! Anyhow, after the debates we managed to sneak into the cafeteria! We had to find us an escort and all he kept saying, ‘the food isn’t that great.’ Well, they had Heinz ketchup! That was a good start. I must say, my cheeseburger wasn’t all that yummy and Amanda and I decided we didn’t want fries as we had previously eaten a ton of potatoes the day before (our host family bought some American ketchup and we nearly used ¼ of the bottle while stuffing our faces with chips and having our own dialog with droll running down our chins). Anyhow, somehow we all managed to get French fries and they were also a tad of a let down. I am actually quite found of the fresh chips Haika makes along with out new found American ketchup! Despite my hamburger, everyone else seemed rather extremely happy with the food they had order. For the first time in three weeks I felt like an American, with a bunch of Americans, eating in the American embassy! Could I ask for anything more on my third week anniversary?! Ah, yes, Amanda and I ventured back to the movie theaters to watch Kung Fu Panda with a coke and some popcorn! I bought some honey—not sure what I will do with it, but it’s yummy and makes me happy for now. Since I don’t drink coffee or tea, Amanda wants me to mix it with hot water and drink honey water. I vaguely remember Crystal drinking something similar to this once in Utah when she was sick if I remember right, but I will give it a try one day. Oh, and still haven’t received the package Crystal sent. Great sadness, but no worries—I am eating plenty!
10/4/08
Sniff Test…
So my OCD is really kicking me in the butt and thankfully I don’t have a serious case of it-although that all depends on who you might ask. Maybe some of my crankiness stems from having to relinquish my ability of wearing fresh smelling clothes and taking nice hot showers twice daily. Seriously, when I awoke this morning I had a text, “how did you sleep?” Well my response was something along the lines of, ‘good, as good as one can sleep on a noisy boxy bed under a mosquito net with no AC.’ Yeah, real splendid and Amanda and I have conveniently forgotten to mention that sleeping under the net is about 5 degree’s hotter than sleeping outside the net. So the heifer I am went two nights without the net, but I have resorted back to my tent like princess bed after accumulating too many mosquito bites. I am not entire sure they are from not sleeping under the net, but until I heal I will use my net and try again another day. Anyways, before I went on a side tangent, my original thought process of explaining my OCD behaviors is the fact I can’t stop staring at my pile of clothes. I have about half my clothes unpacked (I packed WAYY too many) and the other half sit so beautifully folded and stacked on a shelf. Not! I don’t even have separate piles like, here are my shirts...here are my shorts…here are my pants…nope, they are all just there. Some are still actually clean (I am hoarding my clean clothes! Shhh…I have a very difficult time wearing them. I guess I want to keep them clean? Maybe it makes me feel better? Maybe I like the idea that I still have a soft shirt? Maybe if I use one shirt a week it’ll last me till December?) and some are dirty, but still wearable. Yes, they have passed the sniff test! I guess I would rather be a little stinky and in soft clothes than have Haika wash them and turn them crunchy! My thought process is so wacked, but nonetheless there is no rhyme or reason to my stash of clothes and it’s driving me wild! I want my shirts, shorts, pants, socks, etc to all have their own little home, but there they sit. Sigh. So, how does an item of clothing fail the sniff test you might wonder? Well, depending on the article of clothing such as a shirt—I sniff the armpits and if I can still smell the deodorant than life is good and it finds itself a home somewhere on the shelf if not, it ends up in the ‘dirty’ basket. Every time I do this, I laugh slightly to myself and wonder if I should keep this technique when I return home?!
Sick…
It’s been a lazy day and quite honestly, I am driving myself crazy. I didn’t feel like hiking to campus today with Amanda. I really didn’t have enough typed and figured why submit myself to such a torturous uphill hike? Anyhow, I skipped breakfast and decided to be a bum and lay on my squeaky springy bed. Amanda totally got the better bed…it’s raised and it’s quite! Damn her and her stilted silent bed! Anyways, Debbie comes up to our room around 1 and asks me if I am ‘sick, daddy wants to know because you haven’t come downstairs.’ Argh, no I am not sick I just lack the social skills Amanda has and I prefer to hibernate in my room where I know it’s safe with my phone and book. Speaking of which, Emmanuel won’t stop texting me! I need to really stop listening to Amanda. She assures me, after I give her a wide eyed look when he grabbed my arm, that it’s ok and nothing more than a cultural thing. Hell, this would be awkward for me if I was in America, but I pretend like everything is kosher. Ha! When our other foreign friends showed up (thanks to Amanda—she has finally done something right!) he finally released my arm to greet them. Big sigh of relief…I have never been so grateful to see all the other foreigners and thanks to our other American friends I am now aware that it’s NOT culturally ok! I have been ignoring his texts or saying I am busy, but if it continues perhaps I will take matters up mama Kaaya because this could make for a very long awkward two months especially since he works in the links office which is where all the foreigners go!
10/5/08
Classes…
So classes are supposed to start tomorrow. Ya, lets hope! Baba is going to drop me at my first class because it’s on his way. Yes, it saves me a hike! Whoo hoo…seriously, I am really excited because the hike to school is all up hill and totally sucks ass!! Although, I have a funny feeling there won’t be a class or at least not the right class I am looking for. Who knows, but we shall see tomorrow morning! I mapped out my class schedule today and though it makes very little sense, three of my classes overlap on one day. How is that possible? Ah, I guess that’s a mystery left up to the African school system. I am not worried though because I have another funny feeling that this is not really when the classes are or where they really might be located, but I really hope classes start tomorrow. Sitting around watching monkeys play outside and messaging on my phone is very entertaining, but I am afraid it’s getting old and boring.
Music…
How is my little music man doing? Is he still seeing Clare or does Tracy need to come collect my piano?! ;) Ah, I am listening to Fantasia hence my musical thoughts…I need some new music. Ok, I don’t need but I am waiting for blank CD’s to snatch some music from Amanda and maybe some other foreign students! Anyhow, it’s 9 pm and I have had a very successful day of doing nothing! I am trying to enjoy my free time, but also failing miserably at this social game!
Oh, before I forget…yesterday at the little birthday celebration they had for Debbie, mama Dorica asks Amanda and I if we want to attend this casual dinner party for a family member’s graduation. We agree figuring we have no other plans and nothing better to do. Well, I almost backed out, but figured I would suck it up and go. We get dressed and head up to campus with mama Dorica. Ha, these Africans are funny people because it was more than just casual! I felt like I was at another wedding! Amanda conveniently gets a phone call from her dad and leaves me alone. I am a big kid, I can handle this, but Amanda is my side kick. She does all the socializing while I nod and smile! Anyhow, she comes back and to her surprise I managed to find her some good ole Tusker beer—yuck! Anyhow, we decide we feel out of place and this event might actually last hours so Amanda decides to ask baba if we can catch a daladala back home. It’s not far and we’re actually still on campus, but baba says he will take us. So he drives us home and follows us inside telling Haika to feed the Americans (she thought she had the night off!) and he goes upstairs to catch the new soccer game. Ah, that was his only motive for taking us home! Ha ha! Anyhow, while we are eating Haika wants to play with Amanda’s camera. The two of us totally reinforced her behaviors which lead to a very interesting night. It was pretty priceless, but totally left Amanda a little agitated!
Ok, that’s all for tonight! Hope to post this tomorrow sometime…so until then…oh, wait…Emmanuel texted me AGAIN…it reads…
“HI! I took to the place, I took three tins of cocacola, I danced until 10pm, I took my way back to sleep on campus, it was nice. How was the birthday party?”
I have not responded to his last THREE messages! HELPPPPP!
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