Day 4--Siku Nne (Part one)

So quite unfortunately I forgot to take my journal to the internet cafe, so I won't be able to quote it. Which means this will probably be a little jumbled since I'm rushed for time. Pole sana.

Day 4--Siku Nne

Today was the first day at Faraja orphanage. We were met by orphanage staff and lead into a rather dark, rather small room filled with about 15 toddlers facing a chalkboard and their teacher. They are so cute. Faraja, a deacon and owner of the orphanage, gave us a tour of the orphanage grounds. He tells us that there were once 200 children here. Now, another veteran volunteer tells us, there is a more manageable 70. Maybe about 30 children sleep at the orphanage, but most of them either stay with relatives or Faraja finds houses for them with something like a foster family setup. First we saw the classroom for the rest of the students, built some time ago by volunteers and a local engineer. They stand and greet us in unison. Then Faraja shows us to the pig pen. Some volunteers three months ago built then pen and bought ten pigs that the orphanage can breed and sell for profit over the years. Next we are led through the banana trees and rural houses, around and down to a deep and scenic revine with a river at the bottom and tiered land and banana trees at the top. As we climb down, I am glad that someone is holding my arm as the hill is eroded and steep. This is where they take the children to bathe. I can't imagine how they climb down safely.

Ahhh I have so much more to write but my internet time is up! I'll have to finish later.
Love you all!

siku moja (day one)

I LOVE it here. Big surprise :) We arrived at night to our host family who welcomed us into their home. But the best part was the first morning. After tea made by one of their three teenage daughters living at home (best tea EVER--it tastes like hot Taro tea from bubble tea) our friend Omi from IVHQ walked us over to the volunteer house. [the following is from my travel journal]

My first views of Tanzania by daylight, just steps outside our house: banana trees, children herding goats, a little quarry, some trash along the dirt road. Women carrying things on their heads. A man pushing a cart of fruit or vegetables up the hill. Men making bricks. Children playing by the chickens. "kuku" (chicken in swahili) I say to Omi. He is impressed. :) Amazing place.

After talking to the volunteers for some time at the volunteer house, Emily and I walk to town. "Hi" "Hi" "Mambo" "Habari" we hear. People greet us and welcome us all along the road. I recognize the words, but it always takes me a minute to process and formulate the correct response. "Hablskjfls Mamlkjlsld" a womans says something--not sure what--"Poa!" [I'm cool] Emily returns. She tosses her head to the side and back in that characteristically african way as she and her friend collapse into that beautiful light swahili laughter. It is a friendly laugh that seems to say 'silly mzungu [white person], we were trying to sell you something, not say hello.'

We feel so independent, having braved the streets alone. I can't get over the colorful clothes, the adorable children. Two little girls carry a bucket of water together. I think what I love most is the interaction. I've seen this before, but always in a book, on TV. Suddenly people respond to me personally. Furthermore, I draw their attention. It's real.

As we walk, confidently chatting, up the dirt road we wave to the children. "Good afternoon!" they shout. All of a sudden I stop dead in my tracks. 'oh my-gasp-emily look' it's Mt. Meru in all its majesty, so close. Clouds gather at the top and the green folds along its sides look beautiful the the late afternoon light. I have to climb this. I can't believe this view is right here next to our house! The evening arrival and cloudy morning made this a wonderful surprise.

At home I draw then read. The power went out in early evening but that brought the girls away from the TV and they played cards with me and Emily for hours. Dinner was delicious--almost as good as breakfast. Mama Margaret likes my San Diego Zoo playing cards, "what is this?" "A tiger, they're from India" I answer. She says he looks like a zebra pointing to his stripes. I think he looks like a lion, but sure. She teaches me card games. Well mostly she says "Play, play" and I'm like 'play what??' :) But we figure it out. The father Michael never played cards. He first saw them when he went to college (he's an electrical engineer) but they told him "Don't play those cards, you'll fail your exams!"

Time to head back under the mosquito net. Usiku Mwema.