No Justice! No Peace! The Rwanda Tribunal

On Thursday we made a trip out to Arusha to try to sit in on a session of the International Criminal Tribunal for Rwanda. The tribunal is based out of the Arusha International Conference Centre (AICC) and was set up by the United Nations (UN) in November 1994 following the horrific genocide that took place that same year and claimed the lives of more than 800 000 people. The tribunal delivered the world's first condemnation for genocide in September 1998, when former Rwandan Prime Minister, Jean Kambanda, was found guilty.

To enter into the complex housing the tribunal you need to sign in, surrender your passport and camera, your bags screened and cross through a metal detector. You then take an elevator up to the second floor of the complex, surrender all of your bags to a security guard, and are given a headset in which to hear a translation of the proceedings. The proceedings are divided into two main courtrooms enclosed by soundproof, but not "sightproof" glass. (This was a little disconcerting as we -Jen, Adam, Pat, and I- walked into the observation area everyone seemed to stop and watch us) Although the defendants back was towards us, we were able to see his lawyer, the UN's lawyer (decked out in a strange blond wig-yes like the types you see in photos of British lawyers...but not white...blond), note-keepers, translators, and other various important research and law type people. Many of whom looked like they had had enough genocide for one day.

In this case the defendant, who's image (and the image of the prosecutor) was projected into the observation room via close-circuit television spoke entirely in French, while the prosecutor spoke entirely in English. One of the English translators (there is a team of at least two at any given time) had a very BBC documentary air about him...however he also seemed to be of quite and advanced age and at least once during the proceeding seemed to haven fallen asleep. This caused a bit of embarrassment as the defendant has just finished answering the prosecutor's question in French, and the prosecutor was standing there unable to proceed as he was still waiting for the English translation to come through his headphones.

We we able to witness, the cross examination of Major General Augusti Ndindiliyimana who is being tried for conspiracy to commit genocide. The International Criminal Tribunal for Rwanda (ICTR) issued an indictment against Ndindiliyimana and three other former FAR officers, charging them with genocide, conspiracy to commit genocide, and related crimes.
On January 20, 2000 he was arrested in Belgium and handed over to the custody of the ICTR in Arusha.

From a news report:

The former chief-of-staff of the Rwandan gendarmerie, Augustin Ndindiliyimana, has demanded that the International Criminal Tribunal for Rwanda (ICTR) order his release and drop all charges brought against him, because of what he calls “policy of selective prosecution” by Carla el Ponte, the ICTR prosecutor.

General Ndindiliyimana, 60, was arrested in Belgium on January 29, 2000 and jointly charged with three other officers of the former Rwanda Armed Forces (FAR) in what is known as the “military 2” case. They are charged with genocide, crimes against humanity and war crimes committed in Rwanda during the 1994 genocide. They have pleaded not guilty to all charges.

From late 1990 until April 1994, Ndindiliyimana is alleged to have conspired with other high-level Rwandan Armed Forces officers to plan the logistics of the Rwandan Genocide. In early April of 1994, he allegedly informed interahamwe leaders of a plan by UNAMIR force commander Roméo Dallaire to search for a cache of weapons, later used in the genocide.

Many of you have seen the movie "Hotel Rwanda" or read the book/seen the movie based on "Shake Hands with the Devil"written by Romeo Dallaire (Dallaire served as Force Commander of UNAMIR, the ill-fated UN Peacekeeping force for Rwanda between 1993 and 1994). Ndindiliyimana's character is mentioned in both movies and in Dallaire's book.. Dallaire writes that he "had always found his [Ndindiliyimana's] loyalties an enigma" and initially assumed he represented a moderate voice in the crisis committee. In his autobiography, Paul Rusesabagina (Hotel Rwanda hero) says that Ndindiliyimana was more of a moderate who did not seem to entirely approve of the genocide. He also notes that Ndindiliyimana was responsible for dismantling a potentially disastrous roadblock in front of the Hôtel des Mille Collines.

The cross-examination seemed to focus on why Ndindiliyimana managed to recieve a high-level promotion within the armed forces just prior to the course of the genocide, seemingly without having the seniority or life experience of others given his rank. Once the cross-examination was wrapped up, the defendant's lawyer decided to adjourn for the day and continue begin his rebuttal to the prosecution's examination of his client the following day. I couldn't help but feel that witnessing a short hour of such an important event was my small and insignificant way of taking part in the condemnation of the Rwandan genocide.

The tribunal has been plagued by controversy, most notably for the UN's reputation for lavish spending and ineffectual bureaucracy. By the time the tribunal wraps up in 2010, one and a half billion dollars will have funded the trials of just barely 70 suspects. In other economic news, just having a UN tribunal in the area, accompanied by hundreds of overpaid UN staff members, has driven up the cost of almost everything in Arusha, from hotel rooms, restaurant meals, and rent. It has also seemed to span the creation of a market for $12 boxes of imported cereal and $10 hunks of cheddar cheese.

Is justice for Rwanda to be had at any cost? You do the math...

Why Did the Chicken Cross the Road?

....to get away from the crowd of Tanzanians chasing it on Independence Day!

Sunday December 9, 2007 was Tanzanian Independence Day. Tanzania was granted independence from the British on December 9, 1961 (those darn Brits!) so this year marks the 46th year of independence. Not a milestone anniversary...but a day that may have just passed by quietly if I wasn't such a curious person. (Sometimes to a fault! ask my sister about how I used to peek at not only mine, but also her Christmas presents when we were kids...ok..I did it last year too!)

A brief history:
A German colony from the 1880s until 1919, the area (which at the time did not include the island of Zanzibar and was known as Tanganyika) subsequently became a British Mandate from 1919 to 1961. It served as a military outpost during World War II and provided financial help as well as munitions. Julius Nyerere became Minister of British-administered Tanganyika in 1960 and continued as Prime Minister when Tanganyika became independent in 1961. Tanganyika and neighbouring Zanzibar, which had become independent in 1963, merged to form the nation of Tanzania on April 26, 1964.

Garbage bonfire

When I woke up on Sunday morning and set off for breakfast...most people seemed to simply be going about their day.. There were crowds of children and their mothers coming back from church. People setting bonfires to burn their garbage. Women hanging out laundry to dry. Taxi drivers trying to drum up business. Nothing seemed unusual...The dogs were still howling. The wind was still blowing and the clouds were still shrouding Kilimanjaro.

However at around 9:30 in the morning I heard a strange (stranger than the normal strange noises) noise. A marching brass band was parading past the front of my room belting out a strange but parady (not a word!) type song. Marching behind the band was a group of about 20 women all dressed similarly (blue kangas, yellow shirts, white head scarves). The group was marching up the road to the stadium. Once the noise faded and they finished marching past...I almost forgot they had even existed until a few hours later when I was walking past the stadium on my way back from a very tiring "I am one of the idiots (hi Adel and Timmy!) who is going to climb Kilimanjaro" fitness walk.

The Stadium

There was a lot of noise coming from the stadium...so I peeked in. I am so happy I did. The stadium was filled with joyous Tanzanians all there for a day-long exhibition/celebration in honour of Tanzanian Independence. I only stood at the back by myself for about a minute before I was welcomed by one of the event organizers to take a front row seat (better for taking photos he said) to witness the festivities. I only stayed for about an hour the ceremony was being conducted in Swahili and my translator was supposed to be working at the event so I didn't want to take up too much of his time.

It was part May Day, (remember the Soviets? Nyet?) and part family picnic...here's why:

1) The entire time... (except for the end of the day football match) a squadron of military police, brandishing bayonets, were in formation in the centre of the stadium field. I felt so sorry for them as it seemed they were going to have to stand for the entire event. However, I was more worried about the bayonets. What if one went off accidentally? What if someone tripped and fell on their bayonet? I have never been somewhere where so many things are guarded by guns (Here most banks have armed guards with visible weapons...sometimes automatic -Uzis...sometimes shotguns...the bigger the bank the bigger the guns). Most of the fancier homes have guards (askaris) stationed outside...even the university has guards outside of all the gates..however they are only armed with nightsticks.

The guards standing at attention.

2) Tug-of-war
For the top prize of 50 000 Schillings ($50) we watched groups of "opposites" pitted against each other in a fierce and hilarious tug-of-war battles. First up were the retired men vs. the CCM (Chama Cha Mapinduzi- Party of the Revolution in Swahili) CCM is the ruling political party of Tanzania who's current president, Jakaya Kikwete, has led the party since 2006.

The retired men took only a few seconds to pull the CCM workers to the ground. It was an impressive victory which saw most of the CCM side land face down in the dirt covered ground of the stadium and one winners on the retired men side leap almost three feet in the air for victory. Next up were the housewives against the female office workers. I had my money on the housewives, but sadly, the female office workers kicked some major butt.

3) Chicken (and duck) Chase
If you can catch it you can eat it. First the men, then the women. A chicken is set free in the stadium and whoever catches it, gets to keep not only the chicken, but a 5Kg bag of rice and a 4 litre plastic jug of sunflower oil. Sounds like a nice Sunday dinner! I have a hilarious video of a crowd of about 20 men, running all over the stadium, waving their arms and yelling, chasing a chicken. The women got to chase a duck...I think ducks run slower...so it was a little favouritism or sexism..depends on how you look at it.

Sadly chasing chickens (and goats...and ducks!) seems to be a generally accepted form of family entertainment here. I, of course, end up feeling sorry for the poor chicken, but then again if they just didn't always come home to roost they would have half a chance at escaping.

4) Football Match
Everything seems to end with a football (soccer match) here in Moshi. People are football crazy. A big match was held in the stadium to finish off the day of festivities. I didn't stay to watch but we did see the winners, driving around in the back of a truck downtown with their trophy.

Independence Day...Moshi style. No huge fireworks displays. in style...very laid back...and a little strange (to me at least!). I have always equated Independence day celebrations with fun.

Canada Day is one of my favourite holidays. I look forward to ideally, being in Ottawa on Parliament Hill, walking around dressed in red and white, lining up for poutine (fresh cheese curds and hot gravy on fresh cut french fries) from an Ottawa fry truck, devouring a beavertail (it's a type of flat doughnut...I am not THAT cruel) and getting a neck spasm from craning to watch fireworks.

I asked a few Tanzanians I encountered on the way back from the stadium (Judah and Sully-both lecturers at MUCCoBS) why most people (except for the people in the stadium) seemed to be nonchalant about what I perceived to be a very important day. I was told, "Back when Tanzania was a one-party state people celebrated Independence day because they were expected to. If you held any position of high regard you were expected to attend official events to celebrate independence. Now that Tanzania is a multi-party state, no one bothers anymore."

Strange...the freedom to celebrate results in the decision not to celebrate the freedom to celebrate because you now have the freedom to decide what you want to do. That itself deserves a celebration!

By the Each

There are a lot of things in Tanzania...and probably Africa for that matter that you can by a single takeaway "serving" of. This is probably more of a result of economics than of convenience but here are a few examples I have noticed:

1) Eggs: Try going into your local Loblaws, Sainsbury's or Sobey's and trying to get away with buying only one egg. Sometimes you only need one egg....so why do we need to buy a dozen. Here in Tanzania you can buy one egg, or two, or three, or 20. What fun it is to buy eggs in odd numbers. It gives me a strange sense of power :)

2) Shots of Alcohol: Konyagi is a brand of vodka produced here in Tanzania. From the Konyagi website: "It embodies the care –free, fun loving nature of all Tanzanian and is truly “The spirit of the Nation.” Crystal clear alcohol with a citrus and spice nose, the flavor is different!Konyagi is exceptionally smooth at strength of 35% Alcohol content. (75 Proof)."

Frequently I notice empty sachets of Konyagi along the side of the road. Most often after a football (soccer) game has taken place in the area.

Konyagi 30ml pouch

Konyagi 100ml pouch


Drinking suggestions

• Konyagi is smooth enough to be drunk straight with a twist of lime or on-the-rocks [with ice
• Konyagi is fantastic with bitter lemon and crushed ice, known as Slush.
• Konyagi mixes well with Fanta Passion.
• Konyagi and Coke, or with Soda water all go down well.
• Konyagi and fresh fruit juice for those hot weekends.

3) Slices of pineapple: It's pineapple (nanasi in Swahili) season here in Tanzania and the tasty fruit is everywhere. However, purchasing an entire pineapple is a little costly. So around town there are people with wagons set up selling pineapples by the slice. For the low cost of 100 TSch (10 cents) you can enjoy a nice, fresh, juicy slice of pineapple.

4) Condoms: Yes, you can buy just one condom out of a machine in the washrooms of some of the finer establishments in downtown Toronto, but here in Africa, condoms can be purchased at most stores on a use-by-use basis. This probably makes planning your sexual encounters in an AID/HIV prevention-friendly way a little difficult. Especially if you are not an optimist and never plan ahead.

A popular brand here is Salama. They are sold (for about 3 cents each) or given out for free by NGOs and can be found almost everywhere.

5) Laundry Detergent: Maybe you just need to wash one t-shirt or one pair of pants (trousers!) or ..well you get the idea. Does it really make sense to go to the store and buy a box or jug of detergent. Laundry detergent can be purchased here in package sizes similar to the Konyagi sachets mentioned above. It's very convenient.

6) Cigarettes: Now I know for a fact that you can't do this at home in Canada, that is unless you are a smoker with stingy fellow smoker co-workers/friends who charge you when you try to bum a smoke. In town, on almost every street, young boys walk around holding circular baskets. In the centre are piles of red-skinned peanuts and the edges of the baskets are rimmed with packages of cigarettes. They walk around town clinking coins in their hands to make people aware of their presence. People can buy cigarettes by the pack or "by the each". Strangely, once you have made a purchase, you are given a small handful of peanuts. Not sure why...

7) Toilet Paper: I remember visiting a local Sainsbury's with Adel (my good buddy who lives in London) and spending at least 20 minutes perusing the vast quantity of choice in the toilet paper AISLE. There were different colours, different scents (only in England!), different thicknesses, different patterns. However, one thing was constant, the toilet paper, no matter the brand, only came in packs of 4, 6, 12, 16, 24 etc. This is beginning to sound a little Seinfeldesque but why is it you can't buy just one roll of toilet paper? You can here...only problem is...you may need to use the whole roll in one go.

I am sure everyone reading this knows how spoiled we are in the "developed" world when it comes to toilet paper quality/choice/variety/plys. Here there are different brands, Rexa is a major one, but all of the paper is the same, it's one ply and seems to dissolve upon contact with anything wet.

Here is an excerpt from an article about the toilet paper situation in Tanzania:

July 11, 2005- Tanzania Wants To Flush Out Poor Toilet Paper

"Concerned for the comfort and hygiene of its citizens, the Tanzanian government is warning the toiletry trade of legal action for producing or selling sub-standard toilet paper in the east African nation." The Tanzania Bureau of Standards, the country's principal regulatory body, says it will take manufacturers of poor-quality toilet paper to court if their products do not meet the national requirements.

A senior TBS official said, "It has come to our notice that there are firms manufacturing and selling sub-standard toilet paper...The production of sub-standard things like toilet paper is not only bad for the manufacturer but could tarnish the country's image."

Yes I agree...it could tarnish a country's image...Apparently, in the tropics, it's healthier to use water, instead of paper, and air dry. A pleasant picture, but essentially a more environmentally and nether-regionally friendly one.

*******

Now I know that this "by the each" phenomenon is not unique to Africa. In fact, one might argue that at Canada's very own Bulk Barn, people are able to purchase singles of just about anything. (For those of you who don't live in Eastern Canada, Bulk Barn is basically a store full of bins of candy, spices, grains, pastas, cereals, baking ingredients, nuts etc. Bulk Barn is Canada's largest bulk food retailer and has more than 100 stores in Ontario, Manitoba, New Brunswick, Newfoundland, Nova Scotia and Prince Edward Island) Technically, at Bulk Barn, you could purchase a single grain of rice. If someone decides to try this, please take a photo of the cashier's face when you do so :)

Down to Work

I remember when I was smugly sitting on my couch back in Toronto/Mississauga and I would read other intern blogs from various points of interest across the world. I would think, how come no one is writing about logframes and RBM, or site visits, or needs assessments, or SWOT analyses (?) ??? Today it occured to me that I have never really written about what I am actually supposed to be doing in Tanzania or have I written about what Pat (the other intern) and I do during the "work" week.

As most interns or people who have survived foreign placements know, what they tell you before you leave, never quite measures up to what happens when you get here. Part of that is the Canadian government's fault (the proposals for funding of interns are due almost a year before the actual intern sets foot on foreign soil and a lot can change in a year...just ask George Bush), some of the blame rests on the host's organization as most of them write proposals with a best case (a.k.a how can I get the most money out of the donor..) scenario, the rest of the blame I would have to say belongs to the donor community in general and the ridiculous hoops organizations in the South have to jump through to get money.

According to my contract from Humber Institute of Technology and Advanced Learning (HITAL) I am here to:

1) Do advance research for a documentary Humber is having made in February about their five-year project in partnership with MUCCoBs. This is supposed to include filming "interesting events" at the various regional centres. This said camera travelled with me from Toronto, weighs about 40 pounds and came equipped sans tripod.

2) Visit various regional centres to compile statistics in order to demonstrate the effectiveness of this project to CIDA (the Canadian International Development Agency)


3) Preparing for a lessons-learned workshop to present the highlights and lowlights of the project and use findings to prepare recommendations for the reformation of microfinance policy in Tanzania

4) I am sure I am leaving something out...

According to what I have actually been doing I am also responsible for:

1) Supervising exams (OK so far just one)

2) Counting lizards (so far about a million)


3) Attending presentations about pesticides (OK so far just one)

4) Taking photos of campus for the school calendar and prospectus (about 50 photos)

5) Editing reports, while refraining from reading with a Canadian brain (1 report and 1 procedure document)

6) Surviving daladalas (on average one daily)

7) Suffering from culture shock (daily)

8) Speaking really bad Swahili (ditto above)

9) Buying bananas (ditto above)

10) Observing the behaviour of wild dogs (nightly)

11) Laughing at the silliest things (which I would like to say I really really excel in on a daily basis)

I am slowly working on getting things done as outlined in my contract, but as I am sure everyone who has visited Africa already knows...things here move at a different pace. Think molasses in July :) An internship really is what you make of it...and everyone in the end benefits from the experience of living and working in a new country within a new culture.

On Monday (November 19, 2007) , Pat (hi Pat!) and I visited the MUCCoBS Regional centre in Arusha and had a chance to sit down with the centre's director and chat about the centre's activities. One really interesting thing we discovered is that the centre, acting as a consulting firm invited by the community or an NGO (Non-Government Organization), visits various regions in Arusha (there are five districts) and does a business assessment. They compile a list of businesses they feel will be viable. A group of community members is then formed to assess and select which activities they are willing to engage in and the Arusha centre is then responsible for training the members in how to conduct the business/activity. Some of the successful businesses that have been started, with the help of the Arusha Regional Centre, include: Bee-keeping/honey production, fuel-efficient clay stove production, brick making, soap making and turkey and sheep keeping.

After our visit to the regional centre we were "abandoned" for three hours by our MUCCoBs escorts. At lunch time (1pm in Tanzania), they let us out of the car in front of a restaurant, said "This is a very dangerous city. There are a lot of thieves. Don't even take your mobile phones out." then proceeded to go and get some nyama choma for their lunch. Pat and I ended up eating at a place called "McMoody's", which was kind of like a scene out of "Coming to America" except in the sequel, Eddie Murphy returns to Africa and starts up his very own McDonaldsesque restaurant. The signs promised "The Best Burger in Africa"...now there's a tall promise :) The burgers were great....if you closed your eyes...the fries even smelt like McDonald's fries. Yes...like the silly tourists that we are we couldn't wait to hit the closest McDonalds (or semblance of such) for a fix of trans fatty acids :) I refrained from getting the elephant (tembo in Swahili) burger...but there's always next time.

For the rest of the three hours we walked up and down the same street, we didn't have a map and didn't want to get lost and visited electronics shops, saw mosque shaped alarm clocks (useful for planning your prayer-filled day), bags of Skittles and M&Ms (sadly we didn't purchase such luxuries), and went into a beauty supply store to view the $14 bottles of L'Oreal shampoo and and the $12 stick of Mennen and Lady Speed Stick deodorant. You really can get everything you need in Tanzania..you just have to be willing to pay for it. Sadly this also goes for health care, education, and most everything else necessary for a peaceful, healthy, and productive life.

AIDS and Culture

As much as this blog has been about various funny events, weird happenings, "tasty" food, and beautiful scenery in Tanzania...the time has come to discuss a serious subject. One that seems to affect every aspect of life here....HIV/AIDS.

The high rate of HIV/AIDS infections is a problem in Africa...you just can't ignore it. In Tanzania, it's is the leading cause of death for people aged 18-35 and in some places the rate of infection is as high as 44%. One in every four Tanzanians has HIV...staggering statistics. There are millions of AIDS orphans and a society suffering from the loss of many of its most production members.

Although when we were sitting in class learning about the problems that effect development in sub-Saharan Africa and HIV/AIDS came up all of us always thought that the issue was simply related to health care and prevention education. We thought that if people just knew how the infection was caused, how to prevent it and had free or affordable access to ARVs (Anti-Retroviral drugs) and improved health care....the problem would be solved. However, there is a whole side of this problem that, to put it mildly, exists only under the rocks....with the other creepy crawlies.

I had the pleasure the other day of helping to edit a report entitled, " Cultural Practices Leading to the Increase of HIV/AIDS in the Chagga Tribe of Moshi Region" What I read in this report had me questioning if the fight against AIDS can be won with the methods they are teaching in North American universities, colleges and in the boardrooms of Northern NGOs (Non-Government Institutions) The report basically summarized the cultural practices of the Chagga tribe (the dominant tribe in Kilimanjaro region...where Moshi is) that (in the respondents opinions) contribute to the high rate of HIV/AIDS infections in the region. Let's just say I was shocked at what women in this country have to deal with and ever so much more thankful that through some lucky chance (or divine intervention) I am North American in the 21st century.

I think I had to question my own beliefs as I read the report as I finally came face to face with something cultural that I just could not wrap my head around or make logical sense out of in any way. I don't want anyone to think I am standing on a high horse or judging anyone...I just want people to know just how hard the battle against HIV/AIDS is in Africa...there is just so much to overcome...even before the condom goes on.

***************WARNING**************

(If you are my mother or my father or easily offended please don't read any further)

Here are some of the high(low)lights of the report...a summary of the cultural practices that contribute to the high rate of HIV/AIDS infections.

1) Widow Inheritance: In the Chagga tradition a woman is simply property. If her husband dies, she, her children, the house, the household goods become the property of one of her husband's brothers. In theory, this is meant to ensure the women and children are looked after. However, in practice, the woman simply becomes the sexual partner of her husband's brother all loses all of her property. Also, when her new "owner" is away, she is left at the mercy of the community, and may be forced into sexual relations with others.

2) Women's Do Not Have Rights to Their Own Bodies: In Chagga culture, a woman is not allowed to make any major decisions affecting her own family, her own body or her own health. A woman cannot even get tested for HIV unless she has her husband's permission. A woman cannot insist a man use a condom. A woman cannot even refuse to have sexual relations with her husband (or anyone else who asks...as you'll learn later).

3) Female Genital Mutilation (FGM) or Female Circumcision: This is a practice where part of a woman/girl's genitalia is cut and/or sewn shut (with only a tiny hole remaining..which is opened when she is married for intercourse) It is a cultural practice and is meant to ensure a woman's purity at marriage. It also apparently guarantees a higher "bride price" from the husband's family.

The report does not say FGM is wrong, in fact the warning about FGM, is that if the women has intercourse while the wound is still open or fresh, it increases the chances of contracting infection.

5) "Secret" Sexual Practices: The actual title of this section was Secret But Culturally Acceptable Sexual Practices...I am not one to judge but apparently in the Chagga tradition, incest is perfectly acceptable. Mostly it relates to fathers having "relations" with their own daughters and is a reported common practice in rural areas. It is also perfectly acceptable for a man to have more than one wife, for father-in-laws to sleep with daughter-in-laws etc.

6) Separation of Partners: If your husband has to go to another town to look for work for an extended period of time it is perfectly acceptable for him to take on a "concubine" in order to satisfy their libido. According to this report, it is completely unimaginable for someone to be separated from their partner for an extended period of time and remain faithful. (PATRICK....YOU BETTER NOT!...)

7) Alcohol: Drinking is an ingrained part of Chagga culture. Everyone drinks beer here...from teens to old women. It is the traditional way of socializing and sharing news. However, the report blames the tradition of drinking alcohol because too much alcohol causes men to act irrationally and to "rape" women, and to have "relations" with "mad" women who may not reveal their HIV status. Oh yes...and alcohol also increases libido..and lowers inhibitions in women. In fact the report stated that men invite women to bars with the sole purpose of getting them drunk and having their way with them. (Ummm...ok)

8) Traditional Dances and Bootleg Video Shows: Dances- Apparently all the gyrating paired with alcohol and the "suggestive" clothing worn by the loose women who attend the dances leads men to again...act irrationally. It also leads to premartial sex, unprotected sex, and the overall end of civilization as we know it.
Along the same lines...children who go to makeshift showings of uncensored and inappropriate movies will end up trying to "imitate" the actions they see on screen. (Thank goodness SAW 1,2,3 and 4 have R ratings!)

9) Superstitions: There is a widely held belief that having sex with a child will make one prosperous or increase one's wealth. I can't even think about this one as my head feels like it is going to explode...we have also heard here (and in class) that there is a belief that having sex with a virgin will cure you of AIDS. There is a high rate of child rape in this country...a high rate of rape in general. It truly is sad..especially when most of the time it is condoned or the woman is blamed for enticing the man.

Can I lay judgement? No...I don't think I can. So I won't. I can enlighten myself and come away with the knowledge that the fight against AIDs in Africa will never simply be about free condoms, free testing or free drugs....it's a mountain of issues higher than Kilimanjaro itself.

A Big Fat Tanzanian Wedding

I am in Violet and Oswald's wedding video. I am probably in some of Violet and Oswald's wedding photos. I definitely ate some of their cake :) This past weekend Jen got invited to a wedding and I got to tag along as her plus one. Thanks Jen!

The ceremony was earlier in the day, and the reception was being held at the YMCA, a ten minute walk from Seminar Block (the dormitory where we live). Jen went to get her hair done...well washed and blow dried straight at a salon we discovered in town. It took two hours...and the girl has straight hair.

We put on some of our best clothes (which for me isn't saying much as but now I can proudly say I wore dirty running shoes to a wedding) put on actual makeup and walked in down the hill to the YMCA.

The best things about the evening...1) the applause track 2) the roasted goat cake 3) the great music 4) the dancing (yes I know we have dancing at weddings at home..but not in the receiving line and during the presentation of the gifts 5) I fact I had an amazing time. Although some things reminded me of weddings in Canada...the bride wore white, the hall was decorated (in gold and white) with organza, balloons, strings of lights and flowers, there was a maid of honour, a best man and bridesmaid...and tons of free alcohol. Yes..this wedding had a lot of elements that made it seem like it was going to be just like a typical Canadian wedding...that is until it started...

When we got to the Y, Jen had to show the invitation in order to be admitted into the hall, and then the fun began...right away. We were offered Fantas, Cokes, Malt beverages, Kilimanjaro beer, Tusker beer , Castle beer and Safari beer...and last but not least...PEANUTS. We both took water and peanuts...and then said a little prayer for red wine. We were told to sit anywhere on the groom's side (Jen was invited by the groom's mother) and were joined by two very nice ladies (Lydia and Verynice..yes that is her real name) from Kiwawkukki (Jen's NGO).

Here is a my account of the evening...hopefully following the correct timeline.

First there's a ceremony....Once the couple is married, they parade through the streets of Moshi in a caravan of cars almost always followed by a pickup truck, with a brass band in the back belting away at the tunes, and a videographer capturing the moment for all eternity. Then it's off to the reception venue.

Guests are greeted at the door and invitations are checked and marked to ensure now one crashes the wedding. You are then given a drink and asked to sit down to await the arrival of the bride and groom...and they certainly make an entrance. The MC asks everyone to stand, the music starts and the procession starts, flower girl and ring "boy", 20 bridesmaids, the best man and maid of honour (who was more or less dressed like a bride), the bride and groom and finally the brass band led by the trombone player and closed off by the bass drum. BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! There was going to be a lot of line dancing tonight (just no regular dancing as there wasn't a dance floor!) ...I just didn't know it yet.

Everyone takes a seat and the festivities begin...the first part of the evening was the introductions. The mothers, fathers, sisters, brothers, uncles, aunts, grandparents, cousins, milkman, teacher..EVERYONE in any way related to the bride or groom had their name called, were introduced, stood up and waved to the crowd accompanied by the (strange) applause track. (At first I thought people were applauding...so I was clapping along too...then I realized not enough people were clapping to make such a loud sound.)

Then it was time for line dancing part two. Toasting the couple..or as I like to call it...the conga receiving line. All the guest lined up and danced in a line, all holding their various beverages of choice, to toast the parents of the bride and groom, the maid of honour, the best man, the bride and the groom. Jen and I toasted each and every one of them, dancing in the line the entire time, with our bottles of Kilimanjaro water. I must have said "Hongera!/Congratulations!" to about 20 people.

Then...came time to cut the goat. Yes cut the goat. More music starts up and the servers all conga line dance in..followed by this skinny little chef with a tall white chef's hat on wheeling in an entire roasted goat (by entire I mean entire...hooves, head, eyes, hair etc) decorated with ribbons, palm leaves and orange slices. He then proceeded to dance with the goat and present it to the couple.

The couple then sliced off tiny bits of the goat, just like it was a wedding cake and fed it to each other, then to the maid of honour and the best man, then to their parents. It very symbolic but at the same time I couldn't help but feel sorry for the poor goat.

Then, thankfully there was an "English" cake. It was a architectural wonder...eight layers and cake supports and what looked to be a bridge. They cut the cake...same as we do at home then it was time to eat.

Everything was piled on to one plate, salad, wedding cake, goat, rice and we all had to eat with our fingers. Nothing is wasted...everyone patiently waited their turn to get their plate...and almost everyone ate everything on their plate. I just couldn't eat the goat...and it's accompanying goat hair...sorry Violet and Oswald!

After eating...it was time for speeches (strangely only the fathers of the bride and groom make speeches) and the gift ceremony. At this point the MC announced, "Some people here really smell...so no one is allowed to hug the bride and ruin her dress"...um OK :) The gift ceremony was another conga line...people lined up by family, or work relationship, or by themselves, were announced, then had to line in a line up to the bride and groom and present their gift. (The couple was very lucky to receive a milk cow and its calf from the groom's father).

I wasn't about to miss out on this part, and I don't think the ladies we were sitting with would have let me....I danced along with everyone else up the conga line and down to the bride and groom and helped to present the gift. I then proceeded to be almost trampled by the crowd of women who grabbed the mother of the bride, all the while making strange noises (kind of like a native war cry...sorry can't think of a better way to describe it) and hoisted her over their heads. A genuine outpouring of joy...

The gift ceremony took about an hour and continued right through a power outage that lasted 1/2 hour. It was just business as usual. People were happy. People were drunk. People were smiling. In Tanzania the entire community gathers together to help a couple get married. People contribute money, whatever they can spare, to help make the occasion a happy one.

Oh yes a wedding is a happy occasion in Tanzania...well..unless you are a goat :)

Food Glorious Food!

Although we are by no means hungry here in Moshi...something is missing and for me it set in almost right away. What is missing? Choice...and I don't just mean President's Choice (Although when I speak to Patrick on the phone and he tells me he had a President's Choice Chicken Tikka Masala for lunch...I want him to slow down and say it again).

There are Chinese, Indian and Italian restaurants here, but they all seem to put their own unique Tanzanian spin on things. The other night I had chicken chow mein...the noodles were rigatoni. RIGATONI.....and served on a sizzling fajita plate. Although I just douse whatever they give me with pepper sauce and it all goes down nicely.

Tanzanians...tend to eat the same things for lunch, dinner and breakfast and for most Tanzanians going out to dinner is a luxury. So most of the non-Tanzanian food restaurants cater to ex-pats and the prices (even though they are still low to us) are exorbitant to the average Tanzanian. For example....An entire meal at the campus cafeteria where we have our weeknight feasts of wali (rice), maharage (beans) and pili pili (chili peppers) costs $1...it used to cost 50 cents...but apparently inflation has hit the cost of rice and beans. At the ex-pat places....an entree starts at $4-$5.

A typical Tanzanian food diary would read like this: (At least here in the northern highlands where Moshi is located)

Tea (Breakfast) 10:00am

Option A:

Chappati (same as the Indian) a flat fried wheat pancake or roti

chai or kahawa (coffee)

Option B:

Boiled Cassava or Banana

Option C:

Supu (A beef broth served with chunks of beef and a plate of salt and chili peppers on the side)

Lunch 1:00pm

Option A:

Wali (rice) or Ugali (cornmeal porridge like substance)

stewed meat (usually beef or chicken)

greens (local spinach or cabbage)

maharage (beans)

Option B:

Fried chicken (including a few feathers)

chipsi (fries)

Dinner 7:30-8pm

Same options as lunch

Yes I know there are people in this world who go to bed every night with empty stomachs...and I should be happy for whatever I can get...it's just that I have never in my life been so preoccupied with food.

Case(s) in point:

• I have been having dreams about cheddar cheese.


• I made Patrick (for those of you who don't know he's my poor suffering - but very very lovely in the British sense of the word -boyfriend) go to the grocery store, call me when he got home, and describe everything he bought in detail as he unpacked.


• When I see people eating salads on the TV in commercials...I can practically taste them.


• The other day I saw a mini-bag of Doritos in the grocery store....and almost wept.


• I have actually considered doing unmentionable things for a Diet Coke with Lime.


• I have considered the logistics of opening up a Tim's here...yes in a place that has some of the best coffee in the world...

If anyone in my family is reading this...don't worry...I have enough food and I am. There is no need to send care packages of chocolate bars, salads, cheese......aahhhhhhhhhh! Wait maybe there is...but the Tanzanian government will hold it hostage until I pay $100s in customs fees. I appreciate the thought though...

The Snows of Kilimanjaro

Although a few things have happened in the last few days that are less than positive...I find it hard to stay in the culture shock phase of my internship for too long. I really am surrounded by beauty. Every afternoon when I walk back to the dorm for my afternoon siesta (I wonder what the Swahili word for siesta is ???) I travel down a road lined with beautiful trees covering in magenta, lilac and pink flowers...I catch fleeting glimpses of jewel-coloured birds and butterflies. I hear the beats of Bongo Flava (amazing Tanzanian music)...I smile at groups of the cutest kids I have ever seen in my life...I feel the warmth of the sun beating down on me (something that I have never experienced in November) ... I smell wood fires burning and cassava frying...and lately I have started to see a few familiar faces travelling the same road.

I am happy that what was once so unfamiliar is starting to be recognized and that I am slowly getting comfortable and carving a small piece of home here. Even if sometimes what home means to me is purchasing cleaning products and spending an afternoon scrubbing my floor...that's what I do at home :)

One breath-taking moment that I am lucky enough to experience on a daily basis, if we leave for dinner at the right time, is a glimpse of Kilimanjaro. (Yes I did take the photo above) In fact, the best thing about living in Moshi is getting to see that snow-covered peak every evening. I think it's my favourite mountain...if you can have a favourite mountain.

Every time I see it (and you can really only see it's peak early in the morning and from 6-6:30 in the evening..the rest of the time it is covered by clouds) I stop and stare in awe. It's very existence is unfathomable.

"Kili" as I, and others affectionately refer to it, is the highest peak in all of Africa and the tallest free-standing mountain in the world. However, I think it's also the most recognizable mountain and the site of a it's snow-covered peak towering over banana trees always seems to be a bit of an illusion.

Every year thousands of tourists come to Tanzania to climb Kili, and it isn't cheap. To do it properly costs at least $1000 (US) and only 1/3 of the people who attempt it actually make it to the summit at Uhuru peak. Kilimanjaro, the Every man's Everest, is a seemingly easy climb but about 10 people die each year. There are tons of sites explaining how to prepare for a climb safely and everyone advises to go "Pole! Pole!" (Slowly...slowly)

Still...it is an accomplishment and a chance to stand at the roof of Africa and a great photo opportunity. At the summit, there is a sign posted by the Tanzanian government. The sign (printed in English only) reads "Congratulations! You are now at Uhuru Peak, Tanzania, 5,895 m. Africa's Highest Point. World's Highest Free-Standing Mountain. One of World's Largest Volcanos. Welcome."


Sadly, the snow on Kili is melting. The ice cap of Mount Kilimanjaro is one of the most famous landmarks of Africa, but it may be gone in less than 20 years because of global warming.
About one third of Kilimanjaro's ice field has disappeared in just 12 years, and 82 percent of it has vanished since it was first mapped in 1912. Some reports say the snow could be gone by 2015...but others are saying it will last until 2040. Kili just won't be the same without its crown of snow :(

If you are planning on climbing Kili...Good luck and Safari Njema! Take lots of photos :)

What is up with that?

Some strange (well to me) things that people do here that I hope to have an explanation to before I leave:

1) They name the buses. The most excellent example so far is one bus we saw on our way to Kiboroloni Market...this bus was called "Dick Cheney" (I am sure he is proud).

People also have very unique names here as well...see my post entitled, " Hello Bananas!".

2) Winter hats. Yes...it is 35C outside and people, old men, women, and a lot of babies are decked out in knit winter hats. I don't think they are all hip hoppers so there goes that explanation...and I also don't think they are cold. We have even seen people in winter jackets on days that are so hot that even the devil would be ordering iced tea.

Although cold is a relative thing. People here cannot even begin to imagine how people can survive on an icy cold 10C day in Canada...in fact they shiver when we tell them about it. Of course as most travellers do, when we tell them about the snow in Canada, we break out the old winter of 1998 story. The time the snow was up to the top of the roofs and Toronto's mayor called the army in to help shovel the sidewalks. By the time we leave we will have them all convinced we live in igloos, ski to work and eat penguins. YIPPEE!

3) The mullets. What is the deal with the mullets?
For those of you unfamiliar with this hairstyle sometimes referred to as "hockey hair" in Canada. From Wikipedia: A mullet is a hairstyle that is short in the front, top, and sides, but long in the back . The hairstyle was popular during from early 1970s to the early 1990s and many think it has died out. However, I am happy to tell mullet fans everywhere that the mullet is alive and well in Moshi.

There is a small Indian population in Moshi. Most of them are shop owners and judging by the Sikh temple and the Hindu temple and the handful of Indian restaurants, they are very active in the community. However someone needs to make a desperate call to Tanzania and tell the 25-45 year-old Indian male set that mullets are no longer cool. One guy, I think he is one of the owners of a big ex-pat overpriced restaurant in Moshi called Deli Chez, not only has a mullet. He even has the first few buttons of his shirt unbuttoned and gold chains. I think he thinks he's Shah Rukh Khan's twin...


4) The roundabout way of speaking...two prime examples are when we were looking for a bus to go to Arusha. We walked to the bus station and we soon surrounded by a friendly group of people all trying to convince us to try their buses. We had decided on one bus, a coach sized bus, relatively road-worthy, no missing tires which would allow us to travel in relative comfort for the low low price of 2000 Tsch ($2). As we were about to board the bus, someone offered us his bus, which was smaller and MORE EXPENSIVE. Yes...those were the selling points...smaller and more money. Another example of this is a recent ad for Heineken. (Heineken is desperately trying to make inroads into Tanzania...I think they are marketing themselves as the hip, young, poa/cool beer). The ad extols the fact that the new Heineken bottle is not only SMALLER...it's more expensive. I just don't get it...

5) Mob Justice- If someone has a problem here...everyone has a problem apparently. The other day we witnessed the negotiation stage of a car accident. Two cars had apparently collided, the damage was minor and no one was hurt, but judge and jury was being conducted right there on the street. A large crowd had gathered and all were "assisting" the party they had decided was wronged obtain monetary justice from the mazungu (white person/foreigner) who had done the "wronging". This brought to mind something my professor at Humber told us about car accidents in Africa."If you are ever driving and hit a chicken, cow, goat, person...don't EVER stop and get out of the car as your fate/fine/guilt will be decided right then and there by a mob." I don't think anyone here factors in the mental state of the person driving, their bad childhood, or the fact that they were late for work into the sentence.

Note: Of course if you hit a person with your car you should report it immediately to the nearest police station....I don't condone committing hit and run ANYWHERE. Unless you just hit the village chief ;) If you have hit the village chief...here's my advice "JUST GET ON THE PLANE!".

6) The snotty ex-pats: (From Wikipedia- expatriate (in abbreviated form, expat) is a person temporarily or permanently residing in a country and culture other than that of the person's upbringing or legal residence.

Here is my impersonation of an expat in Africa..." Ooooo I am sooooo African. Look at my kanga (traditional east African cloth) that I had made into a dress. Watch and listen as I speak Swahili like a pro. Aren't I clever I am in Africa. I spit on all North Americans/Europeans/People from developed countries. I spit on consumerism. I spit in your general direction. I am an ex-pat in Africa and all those who cross my path who are not African are to be reviled."

Almost all of the ex-pats (aside from the hostel dwelling partiers who conversely want nothing to do with Africans) want nothing to do with ex-pats. They are a unique breed of people, possibly born on the wrong continent to the wrong parents. Perhaps many of the choices they have made in life have been bad ones. Perhaps they are escaping something..but now they have found their home and walk amongst the "poor and unfortunate Africans" (note: my tongue is so firmly in my cheek!). However these same ex-pats are most often spotted in the ex-pat places drinking cappuccinos.

More "What exactly is up with that?" examples will follow in the coming months I am sure :)

Hello Bananas!

After two weeks of saying "Hujambo!" (hello!) to everyone...and then following it up with "Habari?" (more or less how are you?) and then smiling like an idiot as I don't know anymore Swahili...we have started Swahili lessons! The best response I had to someone speaking Swahili to me was the other day when we were walking back to campus. (For the past two weeks people have been greeting us...I thought I had greetings down).

Here is the exchange:

Lady on Street: "Ndizi?"
Me: "Hello!"

Ndizi means banana and she had a big basket of them in front of her... So for those of you following...Someone said "Banana?" and I said, "Hello!". So...I really really need Swahili lessons.

We had a two hour lesson on Tuesday, a two hour lesson on Wednesday and we are going to have a marathon (broken up by the tea break at 10am) 4 hour lesson on Thursday. We are being taught Swahili by Mr. Masera, a communication prof at the university. He possesses a very mysterious accent...a kind of African-British accent, yet when I asked him if he had been to university in the UK he said, "Oh no!" in his funny accent...and then did not offer any more information. He's a closed book this Mr. Masera.

Some info about Swahili: Swahili is a language spoken in Southeast Africa. It is the primary language of over half the East African coast. Swahili is the seventh most commonly spoken language in the world with a conservative estimate of 45 million speakers as a first or second language. Swahili is a Bantu language and incorporates thousands of words, the majority of them Arabic.

Thanks to the British and various other English speaking wanderers and traders it turns out...we already knew some Swahili. Among Swahili words "borrowed" from English are:

motokaa - motorcar
Mashini - machine
Soksi - socks
jeansi- jeans
televisheni- television
treni-train
Wikiendi- weekend
benki - bank
hoteli - hotel
baiskeli - bicycle
petroli - petrol
sinema - cinema


The best bit of Swahili I have learned so far is how to say, "really!" Which in my Rough Guide to Tanzania is "I say!" as in "Old chap!". I haven't used this one when actually speaking to a Swahili speaker yet...and when I do I hope I don't have another "Chello!" incident like I did in India. My guide said "Chello!" meant, "GO AWAY!" in Hindi...it really means, "Let's Go!". This explained the smiles I got when I used it on various men who were bugging me while I was on the beach in Goa. Never trust a guidebook!

People here also have some interesting names...so far we've met or Jen (who gets to hang out in the real Tanzania in downtown Moshi)..people named Happy, Godswishes, and VeryNice. If only names had something to do with destiny right? (If anyone has read Freakonomics they will know what I mean...)

Tonight we (Jen and I as Pat has already mastered this) promised our favourite waitress at the the campus cafeteria (CoCasa), her name is Hadija, that we would know how to count to ten in Swahili by tonight...I feel like I am five (or Tano in Swahili) as I have been practising all day and keep forgetting words...here is my final practice for the night.

Presenting one to ten in Swahili, moja, mbili, tatu, nne, tano, sita, saba, nane, tisa, kumi...I had to ask Pat how to say 8 and 9 while I was typing this...I think my brain is fried.

P.S. Also..for all you Lion King fans...you can't go around Tanzania saying "Hakuna Matata!" No one here know's what the hell that means...stupid Lion (Swahili: Simba) King (no idea...Mustapha?)...

The "Ridoinkulous" Goat Ceremony

On Saturday, Pat, Jen and I, took a trip to Arusha. It's the closest major city and a good test of your strength of character...and stomach. As the highway there is the deadliest in all of Tanzania. This reputation can be partly blamed on the potholes, but mostly blamed on the fleet of buses in disrepair and the slew of crazy drivers who captain them.

We made it there in one piece and immediately began to appreciate the small town atmosphere of Moshi. As we had all forgotten our guide books we were a little lost as to how to proceed...we need our Rough Guides! Thankfully we had a contact, a former IPMP student named Andrea, who has been living in Arusha for the past six months. I sent Andrea a text message and she agreed to meet us near the Central Market. (The most amazing site at the central market were the basket upon basket of dried sardines...I thought they were dried slices of ginger until I noticed they had eyes).

Andrea took us to "Via Via", an ex-pat (Belgians) owned hangout near the court where the Rwandan Genocide tribunals are taking place. The most amazing site at this place was the menu...a traditional Tanzanian meal of rice, beans and spinach was 6 000 Tsch ($6). We pay 700 Tsch ( 70 cents) in Moshi....now that's markup!

At every Saturday night some local Masai gather to perform a traditional goat ceremony for a mostly ex-pat or tourist audience. A goat, normally the same innocent creature seem innocently eating grass on the lawn hours before, is slaughtered to "entertain" dim witted tourists. Now I have no issue with Masai...or goats...or Masai slaughtering goats...or goat slaughtering ceremonies. I have issue with things becoming spectacles in order to amuse dumb tourists.

Every Saturday night, these local Masai gather in what looks like the CNE band shell to slit the throat of a goat. The blood is gathered in a bucket, and stirred regularly to prevent it from congealing. They all drink some of the blood and eat the kidneys and other organs. The goat is then skinned and roasted on a nearby fire pit for all to enjoy. Masai dancing, beer drinking and merriment ensue.

I don't want to get in the way of merriment...but let's just say that I won't be attending any staged goat ceremonies. If one day I am walking through the bush, meet a Masai and I am invited to attend, I will (and I'll close my eyes at crucial moments). I wonder what's going through the heads of the the people who sit there, taking photos, drinking Kilimanjaro beer and already conjuring up exaggerated stories for the people back home..I really really wonder.

Ingenious Ingenuity

I am amazed by people's here ability to make the most of their situations...sometimes their solutions are a bit Pythonesque....but the ability to laugh at silly things is a gift I think :)

Here a a few examples of this ingenuity (shady and otherwise)...ask yourself if this would work in Canada.

1) Plastic bags - They are everywhere. Sometimes I think a nice environmentally related (we know how much CIDA-Canada's foreign aid granting agency loves proposals that have an environmental slant) micro finance project would be to start a tote bag making factory and distribution system. Plastic bags are evil...but even more so here, when they litter the postcard worthy landscape and seem to try to mask as leaves on trees. Children here gather the plastic bags, roll them around each other layer by layer, and secure them with plastic bags to make soccer balls.


2) Photo Ops- There is an extremely ugly monument in the centre of town. I tried to take a photo of it yesterday and ended up encountering another form of ingenuity. As I was about to press the shutter, a face appeared in my viewfinder. The person spoke..."Charge!". I said "What?" He said "Charge...1000 Schillings (that is about $1). He tried to convince me that there was a charge for taking a photo of the monument...I told him he shouldn't lie. I am not sure he understood me...but I left without taking the photo. We asked some locals later, apparently there is no charge for taking a photo, I had just encountered some more African ingenuity...a local who spotted a tourist and thought he'd make a quick schilling or two or a thousand :)

The monument:

It is a monument of an armed solider, dressed in camouflage, with a very menacing grimace on his face. Underneath the statue is written "Water for Life"....due to the scary solider...we've nicknamed it "Water or Life!". Apparently the monument is meant to commemorate African Soldiers who died in WWI and WWII....in reality...people in the area have told us that the monument is a local joke. As the surrounding fountain runs continuously and the surrounding landscape is watered heavily and daily. A little bit of an joke in an area with water shortages.


3) Enhanced Cement:

It seems there is a building boom in Moshi. Apparently with inflation, if you have some extra money the best thing to do is buy some land, and build a house...as a house will always appreciate in value...where as money you have socked away in the bank may not. Our project co-coordinator, Helen, is having a house built in a new sub-division on the outskirts of Moshi town and took us to visit the site (photos on Facebook). They are still working on the foundation, but the wall surrounding the property is built...well kind of. As we were inspecting the wall, she gave it a really good shake, it almost fell over. African ingenuity....seems the construction workers have been "supplementing" the cement with sand...and selling the "extra" cement to make a profit. Apparently sand and cement...like oil and water...do not mix very well :)


Ways to make a buck...ways to stretch a dollar ...and ways to make toys out of what you have...how ingenious :)

Tazanian Symphony

Under a canopy of a sky painted with gold glitter surrounded by the most majestic mountain in the world, each night we lowly interns are treated to a Tanzanian symphony the likes of which I could never have imagined.

It starts a few hours after the sun has gone down. First you hear fire crackling and roasted corn popping. Then, something more familiar, people greeting each other and a melody of Swahili fills the air. As the sky gets darker, the crickets come alive. Each one calling out desperately to the other, as if they each think they are the last two crickets on earth. There's laughter from the men gathered in the dining room as they talk about their days and maybe a last sound bite from "Big Brother Africa". The night settles, the voices fade to sleep and the final act begins. Howling, barking, screeching...dogs who would live a boring daytime TV existence in Canada have full on HBO lives here in Africa. They meet each night to fight, play, eat, and howl at the moon. Their lives, no matter how short, seem eventful as their conversations continue on into the night and stop only when the sun begins to peek over their shoulders.

As the sun comes up, the people come alive once more. Sweeping, cleaning, clearing, cooking...getting ready for another day. Africa it seems...never sleeps. In every nook, under every rock, in every field, in every tree, behind every wall, and under every leaf there is something or someone going about their lives.

C.S.I. Tanzania

I've now participated in two events unique to the Tanzanian and/or East African experience....daladalas and nyama choma.


Daladalas are old Toyota vans and you see them all over the place here in Moshi. They are usually crammed to the brim with mamas, babas, bwanas, bibis, boys, girls, nuns and sometimes even chickens (live chickens). You stand at the daladala stand, wait for it to slow down, then you, along with at least 5-10 other people try to cram your way onto an already full bus. You have to put all common "North American" sense aside along with visions of being hurling out of a moving bus and just jump right on. Somehow everyone manages to squish their way in and squish their way out and the daladala driver (and his assistant) manage to keep track, without tickets or tokens, who has paid and who hasn't. It's the cheapest ride around...(300 Schillings = 30 cents) and you can get to just about anywhere. You knock really hard on the window and the bus will stop to let you out. The main problem I can see is being able to see where you are going when you are standing up in a bus, hanging on to a bar (or Jen's arm) for dear life, with half of your body hanging out of the door. So far so good though..although I read in my Rough Guide to Tanzania last night that the Moshi-Arusha highway (the one we will be on most of the time) is the most dangerous in Tanzania. It doesn't surprise me...the roads here are mostly potholes.

However even potholes come with their advantages. Pat told me about one enterprising individual who lives near Seminar Block (our dormitory) has a wheelbarrow full of dirt which he uses to fill in the pot holes in the road. He then sets up rocks and charges passing cars a "toll" to go by. Here's a ministry of transportation that actually gets things done! Although I did ask Pat if he fills the same holes all day, or if he fills the holes, collects the tax, then at the end of the night collects his dirt, goes home, and starts all over again the next day. This remains to be seen...I'll have to watch out for him.

Last night, I finally tried "nyama choma" at the Green Garden Bar (right by the university). Nyama Choma is char-grilled meat, often accompanied with grilled plantains and chili sauce. Traditionally the meat is beef, but they were only serving chicken and goat while we were there. You have to go over to the booth where they grill the meat to order, and as we were trying to decide between goat and chicken, I looked down and saw a goat's tail on the counter...and decided right then and there I wanted chicken. Although the presence of the tail relates to the freshness of the meat, so that was reassuring.

We had a great time, trying to eat the chicken, and trying to identify which part we were eating. (They chop it up into bite-sized pieces and bring it to your table on a platter) Somehow (thanks Pat!) we got it into our heads that one of the unidentifiable pieces was the head...and even though they never serve the head...I got scared at least twice into thinking a certain piece was the head (Check facebook for photos). The meat was tasty (there are no spices added it's just grilled), the service was there (although slow....everything is more laid back here and it took almost 1.5 hours to get served), and we had a lot of laughs eating the chicken. What a bunch of weirdos :)

Natasha Meets Kilimanjaro

Seems I made it to Tanzania in one piece...and had an uneventful trip :) The kind people at Kenyan Airways "The Pride of Africa" let me and the giant camera case on the plane without incident and without extra charges...how nice.

I met Jen, my other fellow Humber intern, at Heathrow and it was nice to have company and conversation for the flight. The best part was the prop plane from Nairobi to Moshi, where we got to glimpse Kilimanjaro out of the window. I of course didn't think it was Kilimanjaro..but seeing as how it was the only mountain around for miles and we were about to land..and all of the other tourists were taking photos of it out the window...It must have been. Here is a first glimpse...ok I can't upload right now..check facebook!)

We arrived on time in Moshi and were picked up by a MUCCoBS driver who was accompanied by Pat (the other Humber intern)...Pat looked a little wild and crazy..which made me think has he gone nuts :) (Hi Pat!). But as it turns out he has used this past month to really get to know the people...and made a lot of friend in the process. Our first stop was the dorm rooms where we will be staying. I have to admit my first thought was...OH MY GOD! I WANT TO GO HOME! WHAT AM I DOING? but then after I had a 4 hour nap...and wiped everything down with bleach..I thought. It's not so bad...what is my problem? So I'll settle in for the next 6 months..and hopefully we can all make our rooms feel a little like home as we try and make Moshi feel a little like home as well. (I've posted photos of the room on my facebook)

We (Pat, Jen and I) ventured into the town last night for dinner. Despite a short power outage, during which I whipped out my handy little flashlight) we managed to get our dinner in under two hours. I feasted on milk tea (like chai but spicier) and chips (fries) with beef fillet on the side. Beef seems to come with everything here...which explains why I have not seen any cows. I have however seen quite a few Masai :)

I am a little worried about my diet over the next few months..but hopefully we can gain the courage to hit the markets and buy fruit soon.

Today was my first day in the office and I finally met Dr. Bee (Bay) and quite a few other people who I will be working with. I hope to remember at least 10% of their names by the end of my internship. I think everyone should walk around with name tags..or at least let me mark them (like that episode of the Office...with the two Japanese waitresses). Breakfast was chappattis...plain..one..along with more spicy milk tea. After lunch we ventured into town and I bought toilet paper, cleanser, a scrub brush, milk powder, tea bags and some water. Tonight we are having dinner on campus...hopefully something healthy..well at least something other than meat or starch.

I have the first few days off to get settled...but my internship is going to start with a heavy workload. I will be collecting data on Humber's five year microfinance project in Tanzania...as most of the data doesn't exist...this will either be really interesting..or just like IPMP (just make up the data!).

We are going to Arusha this weekend..it's more of a tourist town than Moshi, and hope to buy cell phones. Everyone here has them and keeps in touch with text messsaging...our cab driver "Tom" came and picked us up last night after Pat messaged him. So it seems a cell phone is essential...