It's so hard to look back over a couple of packed weeks - too much good stuff. Bits and pieces come to mind, so bits and pieces there shall be:
You gotta love Arusha. The famous "Agape Tailors" was one of my favorites (agape: "God's love" in Swahili, but still - funny). And "Splendid Carwash," well I'm sure it was just that. The daladalas with stickers declaring "Tracy Chapman!" on every window, the bus conductors who hassle you to get on the 5-hour busride to the coast when you're simply on the way to the market.
The last weeks varied in emotion and program morale - high highs, low lows, homesickness, and a longing to stay forever all rolled into one. One of the best moments occurred during the Community Day we held for the entire Kiranyi Ward (a LOT of people), offering scheduled classes, free and confidential rapid testing, music, an HIV+ speaker, a soccer game with Wazungu (we were bitterly defeated), and many children's activities, as they are always the ones that show up in the largest numbers. We had been plugging the day to our students: in the primary school classes, each student had contributed a sentence encouraging testing to a larger AIDS ribbon displayed at the event. We had at least twenty students make the treck to Olchoki school to see their contribution, and we led each to see thier accomplishment upon arrival. They were almost confused to be praised so highly for an individual contribution; unlike the US, there is much more focus on the communal. Anyway, that was all well and good, as was dancing to my favorite Bongo Flava songs in the middle of legions of grooving kids. The best part of the day, however, was when about a dozen of our secondary girls, probably aged 16 years or so, came to get tested for HIV. Shocking: they had internalized our teaching, assessed their past risk, and felt empowered to take the next step. Dr. Linus, who provides pre- and post-counseling, conducted a special session with a youth slant, and later told me they were one of the best groups he could have asked for. If nothing else, their getting tested was worth my whole trip. Since behavior earlier in life establishes patterns in the future, I believe these girls won't be afraid when the next time for testing comes in thier lives. I also believe they'll protect themselves because they've shown active concern for keeping themselves healthy. Yay.
Of course, the Zanzibar trip was a weekend-long high point. I've been to quite a few beaches, and I do think Nungwi, on the northern tip of the island, is one of the most shockingly beautiful places I've ever been. There are, however, jellyfish, which would sneak up out of nowhere near the beach or farther out snorkeling. Our snorkeling guide assured us that this specific breed didn't sting, but we were all skeptical. For some reason, I was designated as the person who had to pee on the sting if such an event were to occur - thankfully, it did not. Most spent their days on the beach; I spent my days exploring. I became good friends with Sebastian, the young waiter from the only coffee shop in the area, who left his hometown island of Mafia for Zanzibar: the same island without family obligations. We spent our nights, after having a relatively nice dinner at one of three possible restaurants, at Cholo's, an outdoor bar started by hippies in the '60s. Hammocks and big swings, a firepit and constant reggae, and of course, the rusty pikipiki (motorcycle) hanging 20 feet in the air between palm trees characterize this gem. Everywhere we went in Zanzibar, locals were shocked with our more-than-tourist Swahili and instantly asked why we could speak to them beyond asking the prices of their wares. After hearing that we were teaching HIV/AIDS education in Arusha, they unloaded a hefty bounty of questions. There is but one NGO dealing with the issue on all of Zanzibar, and there is not enough information reaching people who live outside Stone Town. We heard more intelligent questions and got a more genuinely appreciative response than I had ever seen before. Condoms are also at least thirty times as expensive in Zanzibar as they are on the mainland -we were all kicking ourselves that we had filled our suitcases with beachwraps and not condoms for distribution. The overwhelmingly positive experience planted us (me, Emma, Craig, etc.) with thoughts that have since grown about furthering SIC's goals, outside of NGO-riddled Arusha. We're slowly working on things now, researching project possibilities - something that might evolve into a perfect choice for us all before jumping into studies again after graduation.
Upon our return, we continued with community teachings to Olosiva, trying to hit each of the four subvillages at least once. One day, I was alone with a full box of condoms in a misty mountain clearing and no one showed; the next day, we had thirty avid listeners with involved and thought-through questions. That was the day one man asked us if HIV is a conspiracy from the American government to kill Africans and another older man with a cane gruffly shook said cane at me whenever I approached his area during the condom demo.
We also visited the orphanage again on the day we flew out. This time, the children weren't immaculate poopless, snotless, little angels. Lori and I spent most of the time feeding and changing the tiny babies while our staff tested seventeen children in the orphanage - all who were negative for HIV, which provided a sweet note on which to leave our work.
As we rode the hour to the airport in the shuttle, I twisted my body uncomfortably nearly the whole time to catch every moment of my last East African sunset. Living for ten years in a house where my room showcased a gorgeous California sunset every evening, I admit I've become jaded to the view. The skies of the Southern Hemisphere, though, are distinct: the colors bolder, and the black sillouettes of trees (Baobob!) much more severe. Every time I took an evening jog around Olosiva (or evening stumble, I should say - unpaved roads), the sky unfailingly stopped me in awe in my tracks. I have never seen a more beautiful sky.
You gotta love Arusha. The famous "Agape Tailors" was one of my favorites (agape: "God's love" in Swahili, but still - funny). And "Splendid Carwash," well I'm sure it was just that. The daladalas with stickers declaring "Tracy Chapman!" on every window, the bus conductors who hassle you to get on the 5-hour busride to the coast when you're simply on the way to the market.
The last weeks varied in emotion and program morale - high highs, low lows, homesickness, and a longing to stay forever all rolled into one. One of the best moments occurred during the Community Day we held for the entire Kiranyi Ward (a LOT of people), offering scheduled classes, free and confidential rapid testing, music, an HIV+ speaker, a soccer game with Wazungu (we were bitterly defeated), and many children's activities, as they are always the ones that show up in the largest numbers. We had been plugging the day to our students: in the primary school classes, each student had contributed a sentence encouraging testing to a larger AIDS ribbon displayed at the event. We had at least twenty students make the treck to Olchoki school to see their contribution, and we led each to see thier accomplishment upon arrival. They were almost confused to be praised so highly for an individual contribution; unlike the US, there is much more focus on the communal. Anyway, that was all well and good, as was dancing to my favorite Bongo Flava songs in the middle of legions of grooving kids. The best part of the day, however, was when about a dozen of our secondary girls, probably aged 16 years or so, came to get tested for HIV. Shocking: they had internalized our teaching, assessed their past risk, and felt empowered to take the next step. Dr. Linus, who provides pre- and post-counseling, conducted a special session with a youth slant, and later told me they were one of the best groups he could have asked for. If nothing else, their getting tested was worth my whole trip. Since behavior earlier in life establishes patterns in the future, I believe these girls won't be afraid when the next time for testing comes in thier lives. I also believe they'll protect themselves because they've shown active concern for keeping themselves healthy. Yay.
Of course, the Zanzibar trip was a weekend-long high point. I've been to quite a few beaches, and I do think Nungwi, on the northern tip of the island, is one of the most shockingly beautiful places I've ever been. There are, however, jellyfish, which would sneak up out of nowhere near the beach or farther out snorkeling. Our snorkeling guide assured us that this specific breed didn't sting, but we were all skeptical. For some reason, I was designated as the person who had to pee on the sting if such an event were to occur - thankfully, it did not. Most spent their days on the beach; I spent my days exploring. I became good friends with Sebastian, the young waiter from the only coffee shop in the area, who left his hometown island of Mafia for Zanzibar: the same island without family obligations. We spent our nights, after having a relatively nice dinner at one of three possible restaurants, at Cholo's, an outdoor bar started by hippies in the '60s. Hammocks and big swings, a firepit and constant reggae, and of course, the rusty pikipiki (motorcycle) hanging 20 feet in the air between palm trees characterize this gem. Everywhere we went in Zanzibar, locals were shocked with our more-than-tourist Swahili and instantly asked why we could speak to them beyond asking the prices of their wares. After hearing that we were teaching HIV/AIDS education in Arusha, they unloaded a hefty bounty of questions. There is but one NGO dealing with the issue on all of Zanzibar, and there is not enough information reaching people who live outside Stone Town. We heard more intelligent questions and got a more genuinely appreciative response than I had ever seen before. Condoms are also at least thirty times as expensive in Zanzibar as they are on the mainland -we were all kicking ourselves that we had filled our suitcases with beachwraps and not condoms for distribution. The overwhelmingly positive experience planted us (me, Emma, Craig, etc.) with thoughts that have since grown about furthering SIC's goals, outside of NGO-riddled Arusha. We're slowly working on things now, researching project possibilities - something that might evolve into a perfect choice for us all before jumping into studies again after graduation.
Upon our return, we continued with community teachings to Olosiva, trying to hit each of the four subvillages at least once. One day, I was alone with a full box of condoms in a misty mountain clearing and no one showed; the next day, we had thirty avid listeners with involved and thought-through questions. That was the day one man asked us if HIV is a conspiracy from the American government to kill Africans and another older man with a cane gruffly shook said cane at me whenever I approached his area during the condom demo.
We also visited the orphanage again on the day we flew out. This time, the children weren't immaculate poopless, snotless, little angels. Lori and I spent most of the time feeding and changing the tiny babies while our staff tested seventeen children in the orphanage - all who were negative for HIV, which provided a sweet note on which to leave our work.
As we rode the hour to the airport in the shuttle, I twisted my body uncomfortably nearly the whole time to catch every moment of my last East African sunset. Living for ten years in a house where my room showcased a gorgeous California sunset every evening, I admit I've become jaded to the view. The skies of the Southern Hemisphere, though, are distinct: the colors bolder, and the black sillouettes of trees (Baobob!) much more severe. Every time I took an evening jog around Olosiva (or evening stumble, I should say - unpaved roads), the sky unfailingly stopped me in awe in my tracks. I have never seen a more beautiful sky.
posted by Ruth at 7:16 AM
3 comments
