the last few days.

My last few days in Tanzani:

Jess and Candy were going out of town for the weekend, so our last chance to hang out was earlier in the week. Helen and I decided to have them over to our house on Wednesday for dinner and to hang out. We ordered pizza from Mukesh's grocery down the street from us so we could walk down and pick it up, and since we don't know how to work our oven, I wanted to find a cake or something we could have for dessert. I texted Mr. Msangi to ask him where I could get a cake. He said any of the supermarkets can do a cake, but asked if I would like for his wife to make one for me. I said "sure!" without really knowing what to expect. In my head, we were going to get a little homemade loaf-cake type thing. We agreed that it would be delivered on Wednesday at lunchtime. On Wednesday, at the appointed time, I was at my house waiting for Mr. Msangi. I waited for an hour and he didn't show up. I texted and called and he didn't respond. Finally I shrugged and went back to school. No dessert is not the end of the world.

That evening, after we got pizza and it was staying warm in the oven, about 10 minutes before the other girls were supposed to show up, we hear a car pull up and figured it was Jess and Candy. After a minute or two, nobody knocked, so we peeked outside. It was Mr. Msangi. We were surprised, so we went out to see him, and then he pulls out a massive, decorated, legit-looking cake from the passenger seat. So apparently his wife DOES cakes, like at least semi-professionally. I could not stop laughing. It said "congratulations" on the top of it, because why else would some crazy mzungu order a cake unless it was for an occasion?? Nobody just eats cake on a random Wednesday night, right? Anyway, Jess and Candy came over and we had pizza and ate cake and drank cocoa and talked and it was great. The cake was so big though, Helen and I have still been snacking on it. This morning Helen walks into the living room with a bowl and goes, "breakfast cake continues," because we've been eating it as a meal in the morning. Ha. I love dessert for breakfast.

We don't know what the congratulations were for, but we figured that in Tanzania they only have cake for an occasion; only crazy mzungus order a fancy cake for a casual dinner party, right??

Thursday night was our last night to hang out with them so the four of us, plus another girl they live with and a Dutch girl from the doctor's compound, went out to dinner at an Indian restaurant. I have never eaten as much Indian food in my life as I have in the last month. It was really good though, and we had a good time. Afterwards, it was too early to call it a night so we decided to walk over to a nearby hotel for a drink. It was literally maybe two blocks away, and there were six of us, so we decided to go. Candy was the only one who really knew where we were going, and even she was not entirely sure, but we made it without much mishap, other than a drunk guy who came swerving into us like a zombie, which was really creepy. But overall, a really good night.

My last day in class on Friday was a little sad. I have been with the third years this week because they are back in the class after being in clinicals for the last few weeks and I wanted to see how some of the advanced nursing classes went. That meant I wasn't with the students I've been with for the last few weeks, though I kept seeing them in the halls. Some of them even asked why I wasn't in class, ha. I'm so glad I have been able to come and do this, it has been a great experience. And on Friday the dean invited me to lunch with her. The food was like what is served in the cafeteria at KCMC, although I tried a savory banana dish I have seen but haven't tried. I scooped one (large) piece of banana on my plate to try it, and the secretary saw me and took the spoon from me and added another scoop. The dish was bananas and beef and vegetables in a gravy, and it was not my favorite. It was very odd for my mouth to treat bananas like potatoes, but it wasn't bad. The dean and another teacher and I ate lunch and made small talk, and the dean gave me the address of the provost so I can submit an application to be a teacher there. After we were finished eating the dean presented me with a batik wrap, and draped it around me saying that I was going to look like a real African woman, and she wanted me to wear it in the States so that I would "remember Tanzania and want to come back." It was such a lovely, unexpected gift. I got hugs and was kicking myself for not bringing a stack of thank you cards with me, though I did at least bring small boxes of chocolates to give in return.

Kristina, me, Ms. Msuya

Today, Saturday, was my last day in Moshi. Helen and I took the dala dala into town this morning. I am glad I decided to finally do that, though it is dumb that I waited until my last day to try it. The dala dala is like public transportation in Tanzania and they are kind of intense. There were over 23 people in our dala dala today, and people were standing up inside, and at one point the door wouldn't shut so we just drove with guys hanging out of the car. It cost 400 Tsh to get into town though, as opposed to 5,000 Tsh for a taxi.

just a random dala dala, not the one we rode in.

We went to the market again for veggies, and then to a couple other shops around town. I hate bargaining, but Helen is a good person to have along for that. We ended up at Nakumatt and then came home and walked over to KCMC to see if we could catch the end of graduation. It wasn't over when we got there, but it was standing room only and we couldn't hear what was going on, unfortunately. So we came home and I spent a good 2 hours packing and trying to cram everything into my bags.

This evening we got lost on our way to El Rancho for dinner, even though it's like 1km away from our house. But we eventually found it and had some great....Indian food. Yes, Indian food at El Rancho. TIA. We were the only ones there when we arrived, and our food only took 40 minutes to come out. It was pretty fast at Milan's the other night too, actually. Usually restaurants here take a long time to bring your food out, like an hour and a half at Sikh Club, so 40 minutes was not really not bad. And Helen bought my dinner for me, that wily one. Because she is a class act. I am so glad I have had a chill roommate. Jess and Candy have told us of the drama that is their guesthouse and it made me SO GLAD it was just me and Helen in our house, and that Helen is laidback about things. We coexisted quite peacefully, which I was actually worried about, because I haven't had a roommate in 8 years, and even then it was my best friend. But Helen has made things easier and it has been nice to have someone I get along with to do things with. Or not do things with. We are both quite content to hang out on the couches in the living room and do homework in quiet.

me and Helen in front of our house. Photo by Mr. Msangi. ;)

Anyway. At times it seemed like the month would not end, but now that it is over I wonder where the time has gone. I fly out tomorrow to begin the 42 hour journey home; I think Paul's ready for that.

in which I decide to use the mosquito net.

So after the first few nights of sleeping under the mosquito net and waking up with it on my face or tangled in my legs or just generally suffocating me, I stopped using it. I'm taking anti-malarials semi-regularly and figured I would probably survive if I got a few bites at night. The annoyance of sleeping under a mosquito net outweighed the potential for malaria. But THEN. One night I was laying in bed chatting Paul on my computer before I went to sleep and I felt something on me. I brushed it off and then looked to see what it was. It was a fetching Nairobi fly. Harmless when alive, if crushed it releases an acid that causes wounds on the skin. So it was crumpled on the blankets and I had a panicked moment when I thought I had killed it and I was going to get an acid burn on my leg. Then it started to crawl and I breathed a sigh of relief, picked it up with a bit of tissue, snapped a death photo of it, and then crushed it in between layers of tissue. I also kind of sent several panicked messages to Paul telling him I was going to be wounded, but I woke up and there wasn't a mark, so....whew! But since then, I have been sleeping under the blasted mosquito net again, because there are worse things than a few mosquito bites.

a weekend in which I accomplished very little but did a lot.

I had such a lazy weekend, schoolwork-wise. I can't say that I regret it, because I also had a lot of fun.

I taught class again on Friday, on rather short notice. The teacher asked me on Tuesday if I would teach on Friday, and under normal circumstances I would have said no, but because the last session went well and because this is why I am here, I said yes. Hesitantly. Unfortunately, this session did not go so well, so I don't really want to talk about it. Ha. But it was on pain management, a tricky subject for Tanzanians anyway, but combined with the limited class period and the language barrier, I think some students ended up confused. One in-service nurse asked me, "but why would we use a pain scale if we can tell by looking at a patient if they are in pain?" I thought to myself, "oh dear goodness. Is this for real?" The cultural attitudes towards pain here are just so different. So anyway. It was not great. But I survived, the students survived, and they have since reviewed the notes and additional resources I gave them, and talking to a few of them, it seems like they are okay. Whew. Moving on.

So since I taught on Friday and had spent the preceding few days preparing, I took Friday night off of schoolwork. Helen and I had plans to go back to Sikh Club with Jess and Candy to watch field hockey and eat Indian food. Our cab picked us up early so we got there about 30 minutes before the other girls. Helen and I caught like the last 2 minutes of the field hockey match (match? game?) because it started at 4:30. Darn it. But it was legit! Like the players wore uniforms and there were refs and fans and everything. Behind us on a chalkboard there was the league tournament schedule. We had heard there was field hockey, but in my head it was more like a practice than a game. Nope, these were full-fledged adults playing field hockey, like a city league. There was a DJ who was blaring music that alternated between Top 40 and Indian beats, playing FUN's "We Are Young" and then an Indian rock song. And after the game, the apparent owner of the place and some others were trying out new hockey sticks. It was pretty awesome. I wish we could have seen more of the game.

I didn't get a picture of the actual game, but the field is behind these guys, and you can kind of see the players.

On Saturday, Helen and I went into town in the morning to do some shopping. We went to the local market, which was an experience. It was a couple of blocks big, and crammed full of stalls full of vegetables, dried corn, baskets of anchovies, spices, and lots lots more. I wish I could have taken a picture but didn't want to take my phone out in the middle of the market. We didn't see many mzungus there, ha. The place was a maze of stalls. We passed a butcher with carcasses hanging in his stall. We were greeted with calls of "karibu mzungu!" The stalls were mostly made of scrap wood and many of them leaned precariously. The prices were cheap. If we weren't going to be walking for a couple more hours and carrying what we bought, I would have bought some small dark green watermelons. As it was, Helen found and bought a bunch of cilantro and we headed out.

We spent the next couple hours walking to different curios and other shops around town. It was my day to buy souvenirs, so we shopped around and compared prices and bought several things. I Curio in Moshi has fixed but reasonable prices, so it is a good place to go to get a feel for what the going rate is for things, as many of the curios sell similar products. Helen and I both had our eyes on carved wooden bowls, so each shop we went to we asked what their price was, as you can generally bargain. We tried bargaining down at a few shops but were met with resistance, so we will probably head back to i Curio next weekend and just buy them there, as they had the best price.

After we hit up several curios we realized we were right next to Uhuru Park. So we went in to get a snack from their food court. The food court is a row of vendor stalls, they look like snack bars, selling everything from lunches like they have at the cafeteria at KCMC to snacks such as kababu and samosas and maandazi. The food court is open to air and faces an open green area with picnic tables and benches. It's quite nice. We walked down the whole row of vendors and were greeted by each worker with either a "karibu," or a "welcome." I don't know if it's because they were mostly young and female, but the girls working the snack bars were much less pushy than most people selling stuff in Moshi, which was refreshing. We walked back down the row of snack bars and I stopped to buy a samosa, and Helen kept going to look further. There were two girls behind the counter and two other female park or vendor employees hanging out by the stall. One of the girls behind the counter had four or five vitumbua on a plate on the counter, which she was snacking on. I have a soft spot for vitumbua; it's a small...I don't really want to call it a pastry, but it's kind of like a muffin? Except it's not. But it's made from a batter of rice flour and coconut, among other things, which is probably why I like it so much. It's a food that, texture and taste-wise, could be Hawaiian. Anyway, so she's snacking on vitumbua but I don't see any in the display so I ask her how much they are. "500," she replies. I say okay and say I will just take a samosa, also for 500 Tsh. Vitumbua are sold at the canteen by KCMC for 300 Tsh. Helen comes to where I am and looks at the kababu. The other girl behind the counter hands me my samosa. The girl who has been snacking on the vitumbua handed one to her friend, and I asked her if I could have one. She points to her plate of dwindling treats and I nod. She hands one to me, and I happily take it and thank her. I tell Helen, "well, you should buy your kababu here now, since she just gave me a treat." She laughed and got a kababu. We took our snacks over to a bench and ate them contentedly. It was really quite perfect.

vitumbua on the left, kababu on the right. This was for tea one day at the school, but just to show you what they look like.

After we ate we walked over to Nakumatt, which is a supermarket, to get some groceries for the week, as well as some popcorn to eat while we watched a movie that night. We hit up yet another curio shop and then went home. We both took a nap and then we met Jess, Candy, and some of their friends to watch a soccer game at Meku's bistro. There was a bar with a TV behind it and locals filled the bar watching the game. We sat at a table behind them and drank soda (I had a Tangawizi-my favorite) while chatting and watching the game. After the game, Jess, Candy, Helen and I walked the 40 or so minutes to Jess and Candy's house in Rau. They are staying at a guest house that they share with several other people. The house was nice but it made me really glad that it's just me and Helen in our house, and that Helen isn't crazy-loud or annoying. She's actually quieter than I am, believe it or not. Anyway, we got to their house and we were all starving so Jess started cooking a Tanzanian vegan stew with rice. Helen and I felt like we were hovering so we went and sat outside. About 15 minutes after we got to their house it started to pour rain. Like, it was raining buckets. We just sat on the covered porch area and watched it rain while we snacked on some golden raisin challah bread they had gotten from the German bakery in Arusha. And then the power went out. Luckily the stove in their kitchen is gas so Jess continued to cook, and then we ate lentil and coconut stew with rice by flashlight at their dining table. Afterwards, Candy had gotten some of the cocoa that we had on safari and we boiled water and made hot cocoa and dumped popcorn into a bowl and watched The Lion King on a laptop. Well, we started to watch it. We had just gotten to the part where Simba returns to pride rock to challenge Scar when the battery died. I remember watching The Lion King in the theatres when I was a kid, and it's possible I've only watched it a couple times since, because it is so horribly sad. We had a good time pointing at all the animals we saw on safari though. By this time it was after 9pm so we headed home and crashed.

Sunday morning we were both on our laptops in the living room and I was being a good student and working on homework when Helen says, "there's a Christmas market today at a Zimbabwean sculpture garden from 11-5. Do you want to find it?" And I said yes. So we did homework for a couple more hours and then headed out on foot to find the Christmas market, which doesn't sound very adventurous, but it was. Helen had found an announcement for the Christmas market online, and the directions were probably not originally written in English and did not include any street names. So we left around 11 and finally found it just after noon. While we were walking around we passed lots of large, very posh homes on quiet dirt roads. We finally stopped at the gate of a hotel to ask for directions. There was a guard and I asked him if he knew where the sculpture garden was. Well, I don't speak Swahili, and this guard did not speak English, so he said yes to the garden and opened the gate and pointed around back. We said "um, okay" and walked into the courtyard of a fancy hotel. There was a bar and restaurant and a boutique and it even had its own curio shop. There was also a path through the gardens and bar area, so we followed the path around, on the off chance that the sculpture garden was, in fact, at this hotel. It wasn't. But we did find a gigantic, refreshingly cool-looking pool and we both kind of gasped. We had been walking for an hour and it was hot and sunny and we were sweaty and a dip in a pool sounded so awesome right then. We decided that no, the sculpture garden was not at this hotel, but if it was this easy to sneak into the hotel, we should totally come back sometime with our bathing suits. With a last longing look at the pool, we headed back out and thanked the guard and continued down the road. At this point one of Helen's friends replied to a text Helen had sent asking for directions, and we finally got a street name. Armed with that, we easily found the market, and I am so glad we didn't give up because it was great.

The market was at a house in a residential area, and there were indeed many sculptures outside. Vendors had set up tables and fabric gazebo/canopy things and were selling a variety of handmade goods. I bought several souvenirs here, because the stuff that was being sold was stuff not typically in the curio shops. Things like handmade soap, handwoven scarves and teatowels, local vanilla extract, etc. It was fantastic. And then. I saw it. MY bag. This requires a short bit of background information. When Paul and I were in Costa Rica a couple of years ago we were walking around Puerto Viejo and saw an old man with a cart of handmade leather shoes. They were beautiful shoes and I fell in love with them. At this point in my life I was still buying crappy, cheaper things rather than higher quality items I would have for longer and love, so spending $60 on a pair of handmade leather shoes was appalling to me at the time. But Paul convinced me that it was a unique item that would remind me of our trip, so with his encouragement I bought a pair of those woven leather shoes and he's right: every time I wear them I think of Costa Rica, and I get compliments all the time and Paul and I refer to them as my adventure shoes. So. This bag that I saw at the market. As soon as I saw it and touched it I knew it was the African equivalent of my Costa Rican adventure shoes. The leather bags are handmade by women in the Kilimanjaro region using mudcloth sourced from Malawi. They're beautiful. The problem was, it was pretty expensive, and I didn't have the cash. I sighed, got the girl's card and wandered away from the stall. Then I went back to look at it again. Then I went to a different stall and bought some bath salts for a girl in my office and met up with Helen. Then I went back with her to show her the bag. Then we started walking towards the exit and I told her I wanted to look just one more time. She took a picture of me with the bag and texted it to me.

We walked home and as we walked I determined that I was going to walk to the atm at the hospital, get some cash, and walk back and buy the bag. It was now 1:40pm and we had been walking since 11. I googled the company from the card the girl had given me, and noted that online the bags were selling for twice as much as they were in person (the prices were listed in USD, EUR, and GBP. Mzungu prices, my guess). I sent Paul a quick email telling him what I was going to do, rolled up my pants cuz I was effing hot, grabbed my ATM card, and left towards the hospital, which was the opposite direction of the Christmas market. On my way back, as I was taking the shortcut past the student hostels, a local called out "mambo, mzungu!" to me and I rolled my eyes, waved, and said "poa!" Whoops. He took that as an invitation to follow me, and talk to me, and then asked for my email address. I gave him one of my many email addresses and then hurried on my way. The market closed at 5, but Helen and I were going to a hash at 3:45, so I had to hustle. I got to the market and the girl at the bag stand greeted me, saying she had reserved "my" bag for me. I looked over all the other bags at the stall, but I already knew the one for me. I handed over a stack of shillings, she wrote out a receipt for me, I removed the tag from the bag, stuffed my other purse into it, and went happily on my way. I made it home at 3:00, poured myself a cup of water, made a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, and collapsed on the couch. I let my legs rest for about half an hour and then we left for the hash!

The hash route this week was beautiful. It went through a coffee plantation and followed a river for a ways, and there was a view of Kili for much of it, though the mountain was being shy and just poking her head out through the clouds. Helen decided to run it, because she is hardcore like that, but Jess and Candy and I walked at a comfortably brisk pace, enjoying the scenery and chatting with each other and other folk on the hash. I met a couple of Dutch doctors and a Tanzanian farmer who lived in Baltimore for several years. At the end of the hash we met up with Helen and I grabbed a Tangawizi and stood against the wall, behind the food tables. It was a strategic spot because I wasn't blocking anyone else from getting food, but I had easy and continuous access to it myself. I know, I know. Eventually Helen and Candy and a couple other younger people joined me and we held up the wall and snacked on samosas and watermelon. There was also a plate that had at one point held a carrot cake, and we ate the remnants of that. Overall, a very fun hash. The Bartletts drove us again, which was lovely of them. I don't think I mentioned, but they took Helen and I for pizza last Wednesday and bought our dinner. They said they are our Tanzanian parents. They are wonderful people.

By the time we got home from the hash it was almost 7. Helen and I showered, then I chatted online with my husband and read my book and fell asleep. So if we're judging based on how much schoolwork was accomplished, this was a very nonproductive weekend. However, if we look at the number of fun and memorable things I did, I would say it's a definite winner.

Because fire.

So this bucket of "fire sand" is in the hallway in the nursing school.

As far as I can tell, it is the only such bucket in the building. Safety first, right? TIA.

Sunday morning musings.

It's a quiet Sunday morning. I just had the best night's sleep I've had since I got here, sleeping a total of 8 hours. I've been getting more in the 4-6 hour range each night, so 8 feels amazing.

I woke up once due to Charlie the rooster and the mosque, but went back to sleep. Have I told you about Charlie the rooster yet? My first night here he was crowing at 1am, and 3am, and 5am, and 6am...Helen goes, "yeah, Charlie is very proud." Apparently. I am getting used to Charlie though, and the mosque. For the last few weeks I've felt the call to prayer at 5am every morning from the mosque three miles away was incredibly annoying, though I think it's beautiful at 8pm. Just something about that 5am wakeup call wasn't doing it for me. But for the last couple days when I've woken up and heard the call to prayer, I just lay in my bed and listen. It's beautiful. It is kind of a chant but sounds a bit like a song. I don't think it's a recording, because it sounds different sometimes.

Speaking of singing: a couple of times this week I have heard the students and some of the faculty singing in class before getting started. Their voices are lovely. The dean of the school has led the singing the couple of times I have heard, with the students singing a reply. I had no idea what was going on so I just stood there and listened. It gave me little shivers and made my eyes prickly and swelled in my chest. I could have listened to their beautiful voices all day. I don't know what they were singing, but I assume it was religious. The hospital here is a private Christian organization, and when I was in a faculty meeting this week, it was started and finished with a prayer. The students also start with a prayer before class begins.

On a completely different note: I love my cab driver. His name is Mr. Msangi and he is wonderful. A couple weeks ago after he had adopted me he told me to tell Paul, "not to worry, I take care of you." And he now tells me to give Paul his regards. Mr. Msangi never overcharges me, he teaches me Swahili as we drive, he is hilarious and I really do feel he will take care of me. One time he dropped me off in Rau, and I asked Mr. Msangi if he could come pick me up in an hour or so when I called. He told me it was a sketchy place and he would wait for me. I told him he didn't need to wait, I didn't know how long I would be, and he said he would just wait because he told Paul "I would take care of you." So he waited for an hour for me. He is just a cute little old man. He is shorter than me and walks with a limp and his hair has receded. He calls other drivers idiots and bastards, and one of my favorite things he said when we were going through a roundabout and people were driving poorly: "Are you driving or dancing? Drive!" He thinks the kids who go to the mzungu club Glacier are idiots and told me and Helen he would never take us there, "you would need a different driver to take you there," but we have no intention of going so it's okay. We told him what the lady at the fruit stand wanted to charge us for a watermelon (4,000 Tsh) and he said to never pay more than 2,000 Tsh and if we go to market this week he will have us wait in the car and he will go buy it for us. The purpose of this paragraph was just to make sure I remember Mr. Msangi, and to say that having a good cab driver can make things so much more pleasant.

Mr. Msangi

in which I have my first taste of being in front of a class.

I found out this afternoon that I am going to teach again on Friday. So, that's cool. It's not like I freak out and obsess over every sentence when I have to give a presentation/lesson, I do totally fine with only a couple days to prepare a lesson for 80 students. No big. So I am going to procrastinate by blogging about my teaching session last week, since that one actually went quite well, and the outcome of the lesson on Friday is yet to be determined, which makes me nauseous.

I had been talking to the professor for the communication skills class for about a week ahead of time as to what I would be teaching in her class (see, a week I can do. A week is a good amount of time). She gave me the notes/outline she had used last year on the topic she wanted me to present, which was communication styles. After looking at the course description and objectives, I received permission to also include a section on therapeutic communication, since it was included in one of the learning objectives for the course but not specifically addressed anywhere in the content. So I researched and created a new version of last year's notes on communication styles, and made a presentation on therapeutic communication from scratch. Because I like to know exactly what I am going to say when I am in front of an audience, this took me forever. I imagine if I am going to have a teaching career I will eventually need to get over this and learn to create a lesson on the fly should the need arise, but that day is not today.

As I mentioned before, the predominant teaching style for the lectures I have observed so far in Tanzania have been lecture-based, which I don't think is inherently bad, but sitting through a 2-hour lecture without any sort of break is pretty brutal. Plus, there is no way that A) my throat would make it through talking for two hours straight, or B) I could stand to listen to myself talk for two hours. Plus, I think my education professor would be very disappointed if I lectured for two hours. So I broke the lecture portion into two more manageable 20 minute chunks and prepared learning activities to reinforce the concepts discussed in the lecture. Great in theory, right? The execution was a little tricky.

First of all, I knew I would have to speak as slowly and clearly as possible, because while English is technically the language of higher education in Tanzania, not all of the students are confident in their English skills, and my accent is very different than theirs, making it difficult for us to understand each other at times. Of the negative feedback I received from students, almost every comment mentioned that they wished I had slowed down and pronounced things clearer. I had actually stopped the lecture many many times to try to gauge understanding and ask if I needed to speak slower or repeat something, but I think they are so unused to asking questions or requesting additional explanation that some students who were unclear on what I was saying just didn't pipe up, unfortunately.

On the other hand, the lecture took longer than I had planned for because some people DID ask for further explanation and asked questions, so that was good! But spending longer on lecture on the front end meant I ended up skipping or shortening the activities in the therapeutic communication section. It worked out though, as I would rather go deeper into one topic than skim over both topics, and I would also much rather have too much material than not enough.

For the learning activities, I had planned a role-play and then small group work. Getting two volunteers out of the 60 some-odd students in the class was like pulling teeth. After a few minutes of staring at each other, one girl eventually volunteered, but I couldn't get a second and ended up volunteering someone else. And then getting the other students to actively participate like I wanted them to took a LOT of prompting and encouragement from me. I felt like it was kind of a flop, but on the feedback I received from students, there were tons of positive comments about the role play, so I have no idea.

The small group work was pretty awesome though. Once they understood what I wanted them to do, they were all talking and participating and on-task, and afterwards, I felt like we had a good class discussion. So that was great, and I think they liked it. I mean, as much as you can like class work, I guess. It was definitely better than listening to me talk the whole time.

At the end we did a one-minute paper where I asked them to answer the questions "what is the most useful thing you learned today?" and "what could the teacher have done better or differently to help you learn the material?" Some of the answers were very insightful, and I received helpful feedback from both. I had quite a few students come up and introduce themselves to me in the couple days since, and several went out of their way to talk to me and tell me they enjoyed the lesson, which made me feel good. Overall, I think the session went very well. Now if only Friday's session can go as smoothly...

that one time when I saw lions go from lounging to ripping apart a zebra within 15 minutes flat.

aka That time I went on safari.

I was on the fence about going on safari while I was in Tanzania. Then everyone I talked to said I had to go while here, so that plus the fact that the Serengeti is just hours away, kind of decided for me. So this last weekend I went on a short 3-day safari to Serengeti and Ngorongoro crater. I went with two Canadians and a Brit: Jess (Brit), Elanor (Canadian), and Candy (Canadian). It was a really fun group, we had such a blast together. I am now so glad I went. I mean, you know you're going to see animals, but I had no idea what really happens on safari. So here's what happened to me.

Day 1: Friday

I live in Moshi, the other girls live about 10 minutes from where I live. Our driver/guide and cook picked up the other girls first then swung by to pick me up around 0615. As I walked to the guardhouse to wait for my ride, Kili was looking beautiful that morning. I should have taken a picture. Kilimanjaro is often obscured by clouds, but that morning was clear and the sun was just rising, making her look orange and absolutely stunning. Our land cruiser for the weekend arrived, and I piled in. I met Frank (our guide/driver) and Mchina (our cook). We headed out towards Arusha and then on towards Ngorongoro and Serengeti, making a few stops along the way for errands like to pick up our boxed lunches and other food supplies.

Frank.

Then we drove. We passed through Arusha and continued on; there were many Maasai villages, and we saw countless sheep, cows, and goats, each flock attended by Maasai in their bright red or blue or purple plaid cloths. There was a glimpse of something I don't want to forget but that I didn't get a picture of: I looked over my shoulder and saw a Maasai running after his flock of cows; he and the animals were partially obscured by dust so the colors of everything blended together into shades of brown, and I don't know why it was so beautiful to me but I want to remember it.

The landscape as we drove was gorgeous. There was one point when I felt suddenly disoriented because I felt like I was driving through the American west, and then we passed stick and mud buildings with locals outside and I remembered where I was. But it was odd. Something about the browns and greens reminded me of the Southwest, although the mountains were very different. The mountains were green, not the purple color of Tucson mountains. Changes in the terrain here seemed to happen fairly quickly. One minute we'd be driving through desert, and the next we'd be surrounded by green hills. It was definitely not a boring drive.

We stopped for lunch inside the conservation area for Ngorongoro crater, at a spot where a lot of safari vehicles apparently break for lunch. There was an open area with cut logs for seats, so we took our boxed lunches and headed for a sunny spot, as it was actually quite cool out. Our guide told us to take shelter under the trees though, because apparently the birds there have been known to try to take off with your food. So we moved under a tree and opened our lunches to see what we had. Aside from Jess's vegetarian option, we all had burgers, a piece of chicken, a banana, and a muffin. I ate my chicken, and felt something whiz past my head. I felt my hair and asked if anyone had seen anything; they all said no. I shrugged, finished my chicken, and picked up my burger. I had it in both hands, right in front of my face, ready to take a bit, when I FELT something whiz past me again, this time in front of me. I hadn't seen anything though, so I went back to take a bite of my burger and noticed a piece of the bun was missing. I said, "um guys, did you see a hawk try to swipe my lunch?" They all said they hadn't and I told them that a hawk just grabbed at my burger, and no one believed me until I showed them the piece that was missing, and then we all freaked out a little bit. I started laughing so hard I was embarrassed by how loud I was laughing, but the whole thing was just ridiculous. We noticed more birds circling other lunchers and laughed as the birds dove at people. I tore the surrounding pieces of bread off my bun and proceeded to eat, keeping a more watchful eye on my food, though the rest of the lunch proceeded without incident and we hurried to finish to get back on the road. The most insane thing about it though, was that the hawk dove and took off so fast that nobody even saw it, not even ME, and I was holding the thing inches away from my face. As Elanor would say: TIA. Or, This Is Africa. Just roll with it.

We made it to Serengeti and got out to use the bathroom and take pictures. Had I known this would be my last chance for a couple days to use a Western-style toilet (as opposed to a hole in the ground) I would have appreciated it more. But we enjoyed the view and got back in the car to head into the actual park.

Literally within 5 minutes of entering the park we saw a female lion, and she had cubs underneath a tree. I was like, TIA!!! Little did we know that was the first of around 40 lions we would see over the next 3 days. But seeing that first lion got us pretty pumped about our little safari. We then continued on the road, and we got our first flat. Yes, our first. I'll tell you about the second one a little later. The tire made an audible noise as it ruptured and we all kind of went "oh no." But the guys got out with a "no big deal" attitude and we asked if we needed to get out of the car. They said no, and even left the car running. We should have timed it, but we were moving again within probably 15 minutes max. When the guys got back in we all cheered.

the first lion is in the background. We saw MANY more.

We spent the next few hours driving around the park, seeing zebras and wildebeests and gazelles and ostriches and elephants and lions and warthogs and even a leopard! Apparently seeing a leopard is a pretty rare thing. The guides all have radios in their land cruisers that they use to tell each other when they see something cool. They speak in Swahili though obviously, so none of us really knew what they were ever talking about, and our guide never told us, in case we got there and didn't see anything. He didn't want us getting excited and then being disappointed. So anyway, the radio's buzzing away, and we drive to a spot where we see several other safari vehicles parked; we would come to learn that when you see several vehicles in one spot, that probably means there's something worth seeing. But anyway, we pull up and see a leopard nearby. I am a terrible judge of distances, but she was close enough that I could see her just fine. We watched for a moment as she stalked over to a tree and then climbed up the trunk and settled into the branches. We watched for another moment, took several pictures, and moved on. We saw lots of animals just in those first few hours, which was awesome.

An hour or so before dark, we headed to our campsite for the night. The awesome thing about basically paying to go camping is that someone else does all of the not-fun camping jobs for you. It was amazing. Our tent was set up for us, and we just loaded our stuff in and set up our beds. As we were coming back from using the bathroom, there was an elephant practically in our campsite. It was so close. I got so excited and started jogging towards it, and Jess was all "Jael I don't think you should do that..." but she followed me. And then Frank appeared, waving his arms and yelling at us to stop. Apparently he was afraid of the elephant goring and/or trampling us.

the elephant that was almost on top of our camp.

Anyway, we got settled in the tent and then we sat around a table, complete with a Maasai plaid tablecloth, and drank hot chocolate and ate popcorn while we waited for dinner to be brought to us. I loved it. It was the best camping ever. If I had had a cot, I totally would have called it glamping. But anyway, dinner that night was leek soup, followed by spaghetti with some sort of meat sauce with vegetables (just veg for Jess), and fruit. There may have been something else as well, but I forget. We left our dishes for Mchina to clean up (amazing) and got ready for bed. All four of us were in a tent and fit snugly.

Day 2: Saturday

The next day we woke up at 0530, got dressed and packed up our stuff and were at the breakfast table a little before 0600. We had more hot chocolate while we waited for breakfast. That hot chocolate was amazing, and it was served with every meal. It was just Cadbury "cocoa" and the ingredients were "cocoa and flavorings." So there was also dried milk (with vegetable fat) and sugar (sugar in Tanzania is different-it looks more like Sugar in the Raw, if you've seen that in the grocery store) and we would mix it up as we liked. I don't know if it's just because we were camping or what, but it was the best hot cocoa ever. So breakfast that morning was served pretty promptly at 0600, and we had toast, fruit, beans (for the Brit, I'm guessing), sausage, eggs, and crepes. Elanor goes, "this is not camping breakfast, this is like fancy Mother's day breakfast." And it really was, it was awesome.

our campsite.

After breakfast we headed out. We saw elephants right outside our camp, and within two minutes of driving we saw a lion on an outcropping of rocks. We ooh'ed and aah'ed and drove on. A few minutes later someone said "that lion was really close to camp." Um, yeah....Hmm.

getting started in the morning, outside the campsite.

A few minutes before 8 we came on 11 lions sleeping under a tree, right by a water hole. We gasped and freaked appropriately and took copious amounts of pictures. Then Frank radioed it out to the other cars, and two other cars showed up. Then one of the lions sat up, alert, staring away from our cars. We followed her eyes and saw a zebra. Just one zebra, walking slowly towards us. We all gasped again, and two more lions sat up and looked at the zebra. One of the lions slipped away to the left, stalking stealthily and finding a spot to sit and watch the lion away from the others. Another lion stalked behind one of the other safari vehicles, hiding behind its back tire. Another lion stalked to the right, and crouched, waiting. By this time we were all mesmerized, waiting to see what would happen, and climbing on top of the car to get a better view. The zebra was walking very cautiously, stopping now and again to twitch her ears and look around. I don't know how she didn't see the gigantic pile of lions laying a few yards in front of her. So she goes down to the water hole and starts to drink. Suddenly, the lion that had been waiting to the left starts to move. The other lions sit up and start to move, and everything happens at once. The lions are going for the zebra, Frank is yelling at Elanor to get off the car, and all three safari vehicles peel out 15 yards away to get front-row seats of the kill. It was amazing. One of the most breath-taking things I have ever seen. Elanor, who has spent 6 months of each year for the past 3 years in Africa, said it was "the biggest TIA moment I've ever had." The lions take the zebra down and then they're all chill again, like "oh, let's just have a leisurely breakfast." A few of the lions start chewing at the zebra, a few others are playing and wrestling with each other, a couple start lounging again. It was absolutely nuts. We watched for probably another 40 minutes while the lions ate the zebra. They tore the back legs open first, and we were initially confused about what body part we were seeing come out the back end of the zebra. It was a large membranous sack. Then one of the lions tore it open and we saw the black and white stripes tumble out of the sack. The zebra had been pregnant. We were horrified but enthralled by it at the same time. Then one of the lions ran off with the zebra's tail, another ran off with the baby zebra, and another lion finally opened up the zebra's head, after several of them had been gnawing at it for some time. After a while we eventually had enough of watching the lions eat, and we moved on.

sleeping.
Photo cred: Elenor

the zebra's been spotted.
Photo cred: Elenor

using the car as cover.
photo cred: Kandi

getting into position...
Photo cred: Elenor

GOOO!!!
Photo cred: Elenor

breakfast.
Photo cred: Elenor

Watching the lion kill was the highlight, but we saw lots of cool animals that day. It was so funny, because when we were driving to Serengeti, Frank asked each of us what we wanted to see. I said I didn't care what else happened, I had to take a picture with a lion. That happened in the first five minutes. Jess said she wanted to see a leopard. We saw that the first day too, despite sightings being relatively rare. Elanor said she wanted to see hippos. We saw those several times. Candy didn't really care. As each thing got checked off our lists though, we kept getting bigger. Elanor said she wanted to see a kill. We saw a kill our second day. We wanted to see a rhino. We saw a rhino our third day. Frank goes "you are very lucky girls," he said that several times. And we really were; we went on a super short safari and saw absolutely everything we wanted to see, except for a cheetah. But it was really awesome, I think we had an amazing safari. We just drove along, and I spent most of the day standing with my head and shoulders out of the top of the car, feet planted and knees soft, just kind of swaying as we bounced along the bumpy dirt trails. It was wonderful. At one point we were talking about how beautiful everything was and I mentioned how alive I felt and how happy I was to be alive, and everyone just sort of added their feelings of agreement. It was a really good day.

the second flat tire.

Anyway, we went back to camp for a late lunch and then packed up and headed out of the park around 1300. We only paid for a 24-hour permit for the park, so we needed to be out by 1500. We thought we had plenty of time, it hadn't taken that long to get into the park. But then we got our second flat, maybe 25 km or so from the park entrance. Our safari car carries two spare tires, and we had only used one, so we thought it would be no big deal, like last time. But Frank and Mchina were talking in Swahili, and it sounded like something was wrong. Turns out, our second spare was also flat. So we were stuck on the side of the road in the Serengeti, hoping someone would come along and give us a spare tire. The problem we found is that people heading into the park wouldn't give up their spares, in case they needed them in the park, and we were leaving at an odd time because we needed to get to Ngorongoro and make camp before dark, so other people weren't heading out yet. So we were stuck. We waited for about two hours, and several cars passed us heading in, but none passed us heading out. A few of the cars heading in warned us that there was a lion just up the road. We had been out of the car because it was hot and we were tired of sitting. Then us girls just decided to be on lion watch, so we took turns scanning the horizon for potential predators. Ha. Anyway, after a couple of hours someone heading in apparently knew our cook, and gave us a tire! Hallelujah. We were on our way again. Unfortunately, now we were late coming out of the park. The park fees are pretty expensive, and we were worried about having to pay for an extra day when we were only about 45 minutes late. We got to the park entrance and us girls went to the bathroom while Frank went and talked to the equivalent of park rangers. We reconnoitered at the car and Frank said we didn't have to pay for the extra day. We were all relieved; then when one ranger checked our permit as we exited, Mchina took some cash and got out and walked to the office. He came back, and we left. We waited til we left the park, and then Elanor goes, "Frank, when we give a little cash like that in India we call it baksheesh. In Canada we call it bribery. What do we call it in Tanzania?" And Frank laughed and said it is also baksheesh, but eventually we learned that the Swahili term is kitu kidogo, which means "a little something." And that is the story of the time we bribed park rangers.

Frank drove REALLY fast and we got to our campsite on the top of Ngorongoro crater around 1730. It was already chilly on top of the crater, and windy, and it looked like it was going to rain, so us girls set up our own tent before the rain started coming down. We were honestly doing just fine, although Mchina did come over to help us finish. The wind was whipping like crazy and it started to sprinkle, so once we had our beds set up we put on as many layers as we had and laid in our beds for a while and lamented the fact that it was going to be freezing that night. The other girls made me go check on what Mchina was doing and to see if we had a table set up yet, and we DID, and there was hot cocoa fixings there, so we went and sat and drank a whole thermos-worth of hot cocoa and ate popcorn while we waited for dinner. There was a smallish concrete building that was semi-open to air; there were half-height concrete walls topped by wire mesh, presumably to keep the animals out.  Elenor made the comment that it looked like a refugee camp in the little dining hall area, and I laughed because it was kind of true. The building was filled with tables and disheveled-looking campers from all over. The girls I was with were really fun, and our mealtime conversations were pretty hilarious. I think one of the fun things about traveling to somewhere like East Africa is that you meet people from different places who are all there doing something interesting. For instance, Elenor is one of the founders of Femme International, a non-profit that focuses on providing menstrual health education to women and girls in East Africa. Oh, and she's my age. Ha. Candy is also a nurse, my age, and working on her master's, but she's volunteering with one of the health clinics here and has been going around in "caravans," or mobile health clinics to some of the remote villages and communities to provide basic health care. She's been here for a month or two and is staying until January. And then Jess is the baby, I believe she's 23 and is here volunteering at one of the youth programs and teaching art and photography classes. Very fun and different group of girls, and I am glad I got to go on safari with them.

lookin a little rough our second night.

Anyway, after we ate we went to bed and OH MY GOSH it was cold. I didn't want to pay $20 to rent a sleeping bag so I just brought a blanket and a sheet and slept on top of the mattress pad, which was provided. In the Serengeti that was fine, it was warm. At Ngorongoro I was cold and damp and reasonably miserable. Not the worst night's sleep I've ever had, but not the greatest either. We're laying there though and I'm chatting with Paul on my phone because I have 3G internet speed, which is faster than what I often get at the doctor's compound, and Elenor goes, "hey Jael, remember that time we were at the top of Ngorongoro crater and you had f*&%ing 3G??" I had faster internet in the middle of the Serengeti, too. Random. Anyway, as soon as I got in bed I went "shoot, I have to pee." But it was raining, ya know? So I just held it and laid there and couldn't sleep, until finally at 2100 it stopped raining and I tried to quietly unzip the tent so I wouldn't wake anybody up, and then rather than pee in the holes in the bathroom, where the floors were covered in urine and feces because white girls can't aim at a hole in the floor, I peed outside. Then I heard the tent zip close and I thought "eff," because I had left the door open so I would have to zip/unzip it as few times as possible, but apparently the wind had flapped and woken up Jess. Whoops. Anyway, I was finally able to sleep for a couple hours.

Day 3: Monday

Today! We woke up at 0500 and breakfasted at 0530. We were the first ones up and eating and the first ones out of the campsite, by 0610. We bundled up (I had two pairs of pants on) and headed down into the crater. Top of our list of things to see were: live baby animals, a rhino, elephants up close, and a cheetah. We didn't see a cheetah, but we saw everything else. Although, the closest we ever got to an elephant was the one in our campsite that first night. We saw baby hippos, baby lions, baby hyenas, baby elephants, and baby zebra. We saw a rhino, which completed our sightings of the Big 5. We did not see a cheetah, but we drove around the crater for a while, from one end to the other. It seems massive, but the crater floor is 100 square miles, compared to the Serengeti, which is like 5700 square miles. So we drove around the crater and saw tons of wildebeests and zebras and such, and took a bathroom break by a water hole filled with hippos. Then we tried to see elephants up close one more time, and finally Frank turns to us around 1030 and says "we can keep going, but you will see the same things you have already seen. Do you want to keep driving around the crater or do you want to go home?" We had planned on leaving around 11 or 12 anyway, so we decided to go a little early, as the only thing we really hadn't seen was a cheetah, and we decided that was pretty dang awesome. So we went and picked up Mchina and our camping supplies and headed out.

Photo cred: Elenor

You don't need to wear "safari clothes" on safari!

I got dropped off just before 1700 and immediately went to take a shower. My hair was so knotted and dusty I couldn't get my fingers through it. I took a freezing cold shower (I've learned that the trick is to keep breathing--the water doesn't hurt so bad) and washed my hair twice, and scrubbed my face and body. It felt so good. This trip was absolutely amazing, I am so glad I went. When I heard "safari" beforehand, it was like, "yeah okay, we'll see some animals," but I had no idea what it was actually like. I had such an awesome experience. Also, I learned that "safari clothes" are so not necessary. We took a bathroom break once and there was a caravan of older adults wearing olive green and khaki, with so many pockets I couldn't even count, and thick intense hiking boots with long socks and massive sun hats. The thing that you don't necessarily realize before you go though, is that you are literally going to be sitting in a car the entire time. Like, the WHOLE time. There's also a choice between staying at lodges or camping while on safari, and if you stay in a lodge I cannot think of a single reason why you couldn't just wear normal clothes. Heck, in Ngorongoro, if I were to go again I would wear jeans, because they are warm. In Serengeti I would probably wear a maxi dress, because they're cool and breezy and comfortable. Think more "what would I wear on a road trip?" rather than "what do I think I should wear on safari?" Because you want to be comfortable. And all of those pockets are not necessary. If you are going to be camping, then wear "camping" clothes I guess, and I would probably bring both close and open-toed shoes. I was glad I had my sandals in the Serengeti, and REALLY glad I had close-toed shoes in the bathrooms at the campground.

Anyway, it was a wonderful weekend and we may have been lucky with what we got to see, but I would still recommend a safari if you happen to be in East Africa. I don't know that I would go to Africa specifically to go on safari, but if you are there anyway, you should definitely go.

Elenor, me, Jess, Candy

Weekend #2: homework and hashing.

So last weekend was super fun. Friday night, Helen and I had a quiet night in, working on homework and other projects. Saturday we woke up and walked into town and that was an adventure. There are a few roundabouts, and we had never walked in from our house before, only taken a taxi (it’s only about 3 miles away) and we got a little turned around trying to find where we were going. But it was a beautiful morning for a walk and we finally made it to where we wanted to be and popped into a curio shop to look around. We were meeting two girls for brunch and had some time to kill. I don’t know why but I love the curio shops. They’re filled with “African” things, but no Tanzanians actually shop there, they’re just filled with touristy things. But I love them anyway, they are very fun. Although I hate bargaining, and most of the shops don’t have prices on things so you have to bargain unless you want to get gouged.

But anyway, we went to the curio shop and then we met the girls for brunch; there’s a nurse from Canada who’s here volunteering at one of the clinics, and a girl from the UK who’s volunteering in one of the schools, teaching art classes and English. They’re both in their 20’s and are a crack up. They live near each other in a little village outside of Moshitown. So we ate and then went to a fabric and dress shop and looked around. Then Helen and I went back to the restaurant because our neighbors had invited us to come scout a trail for a hash on Sunday.

Hash, as in hash house harriers, as in the group for “drinkers with a running problem.” It was super fun actually. Wikipedia it, but essentially the run is supposed to go for several miles and the trail is marked with flour, with false trails and forks in the trail so that the runners ahead are finding the trail, which gives the slower ones a chance to catch up, so everyone finishes more or less together, and there is booze along the way and at the end. In theory. Our actual hash trail this time was pretty straightforward and only a few miles, but it was more hike in the mountains than run. The scenery was beautiful though; there was a little spring about halfway, and just after that a lookout where you could see Moshi and Kilimanjaro. The couple who was “haring” this hash has lived in Moshi for 10 years, he’s a physician and works with the Duke-KCMC collaboration. It was really nice of them to invite Helen and I along, we had so much fun hiking and scouting the trail on Saturday.

by the little spring.

Jess, Candy, and me at the top of the mountain.

The next morning I worked on my lesson for this week for about 6 hours and only got about 1 hour of material prepared. Yeah. I’m going to need to get faster at this. But at 1:30 I walked over to my neighbors’ house and caught a ride up the mountain to actually set the trail for the hash (Helen had a conference call, so she couldn’t come). So the hash started at this guesthouse way up in the mountain, up really rough dirt roads/paths, and we busted something on a tire when we were almost there. I am not a car person, I have no idea what broke, but luckily we made it and had a fundi come and fix it while we did the hash. So the hash started at this guest house, which is owned by some Germans who have a Tanzanian family living there as caretakers, so the Tanzanian husband took us on the trail on Saturday and Sunday to show us where to go. So the four of us set out to set the trail, got back and set up the food and drinks, and waited for people to show up. The Canadian and Brit came and convinced me to hike it again with everyone else, which ended up being really fun, but my calves are killing me today. Those girls are super hilarious, and I’m going on safari with them this weekend.

That was pretty much the weekend. 

just call me "U.S."

Today was my third day of class, and I have not seen the same professor twice, so it has been interesting to observe different teaching styles. The professors all follow the same basic formula of standing in front of the class and lecturing for two hours, but today one of the professors gave the students a five minute break after about an hour, so that was kind of refreshing! Normally they just power through and talk for the whole two hours. The most memorable professor today either couldn't pronounce or couldn't remember my name and so he referred to me as "U.S." Also today, two of the professors went around the room and had the students say their names, where they were from, and whether they were "fresh from school" or "in service," meaning they were previously working as nurses before going back to school. The program I am observing in is the bachelor's program, but it is only open to students who already have their diplomas in nursing. So it is a three year continuation program. For the first year though, the nursing students and the physiotherapy students take the same classes. So those who were "fresh from school" tended to be the physiotherapy students. The nursing students however, all have to have at least 3 years of experience as nurses before they can be accepted into the BScN program.

So anyway, everyone is going around the room saying their names, and since I'm sitting amongst the students, when it gets to be my turn I said "my name is Jael, I'm a Duke student from the US, and I am both in service and fresh from school." For some reason the students thought that was funny and I got a laugh, so I tried to clarify that I am working as a nurse and studying nursing education, but I don't know if that got through. Our accents are very different and we often need to ask the other to repeat what was just said. Unless I am talking to someone one on one, it is very difficult to understand names in particular due to the different accent.

I think that I confuse the teachers though. None of them show up for class until 10 minutes after class is supposed to have started, so I don't have a chance to introduce myself and tell them what I am doing ahead of time. And like I said, there has been a new teacher for every class. So I try to talk to them after class to let them know what I am doing, but a couple times the teacher has just ran out of the room right after class. The dean of the nursing school is also gone right now, she is actually at Duke, so it apparently wasn't communicated to the faculty what I would be doing, or even that I would be here. Which is fine, it just makes for some interesting moments when the teacher is obviously confused by my presence and I try to explain myself.

I have met a couple of the students now though, and they have been very nice. One of the girls yesterday walked me to class in a different building so I would know where to go, and we had a great conversation about nursing in Tanzania. One of the things I learned from her was that the scope of practice is the same whether she has a diploma or a bachelor's, the difference is in salary, at least in Tanzania. This is similar to the US though, where an ADN RN has the same job as a BSN RN, although usually there isn't a salary difference, just in the type of job you would be qualified for with a BSN as opposed to an ADN.

There is also a dress code that I was reading today. Trousers are on the "indecent" list for women, at least in the nursing school. Female students have to wear dresses and they have to be at least to the knee. I had been planning on rotating my pants into my weekday wardrobe, but it looks like I might need to go dress shopping instead!

Kili was looking beautiful this day.

first day of school.

Healthcare in Tanzania is crazy. I went on a tour of Kilimanjaro Christian Medical Center yesterday and was shocked by the wards I saw. What would be considered a med-surg floor had hallways lined with cots filled with patients, and 10 beds per room. Peeling plaster, bare concrete floors, overcrowding; forget about things like IV pumps, one of the ob-gyn residents told me they had to cancel all surgeries the other day because there was no blood in the blood bank. I might go donate, since nobody in the US will want my blood when I get back. But this is one of the largest, best, and well-funded hospitals in Tanzania. A resident said they don’t have access to imaging studies like CT scans or MRIs, so surgery is often performed without a firm diagnosis, based on physical assessment information. So like, “we think you might have a brain hemorrhage so we’re going to do a craniotomy and see if that’s therapeutic.”

Another crazy thing that same ob-gyn resident was saying was that the labor and delivery culture here is so different. Like women labor in silence. Silence. If she makes any sounds during labor, even if it’s just a little whimpering, she will get slapped and told to be quiet, or a member of the healthcare team might say she is being “uncooperative.” When she is getting close to deliver she’ll start rocking and then whoosh! Out comes a baby! I told the resident if anyone slapped me and told me to be quiet while I was laboring I would slap them right back; cultural differences, eh.

Another rumor I’ve heard is the lack of bedside manner among doctors and nurses. I haven’t seen this myself as I haven’t spent enough time on the floor yet, but therapeutic communication is apparently not a thing here. Patients aren’t kept informed about their care, patients don’t make any decisions, it’s apparently pretty rough. I am curious to spend some time on a unit and observe how things run and what the nurses are like.

I spent my first day at the school today, and that was interesting. The teachers all lectured for two hours straight. No break, very little student interaction, just the teacher talking for two hours; one teacher asked the students if there were any questions one time, at the very end of his lecture. It was kind of mind numbing. I am also now even more nervous to be the one to teach. I will definitely NOT be standing up there and talking for two hours, but if this is what students are used to, how will they react when I ask them to participate? Will they even do it? What kind of activities can I use to engage them and make class more relevant and interesting?

So today I just sat in on the classes. The first teacher gave half his lecture in Swahili, even though English is technically the language of education in Tanzania. During the second class, a student asked the teacher a question in Swahili and the teacher said “the language is English” and made him repeat it in English. I guess it just depends on the teacher. I am a little worried that the students will be able to understand me when I teach. Our accents are so different, I often find myself trying to politely ask people to repeat themselves, and they sometimes ask me to as well. But anyway, this week is likely going to be observation only, and next week I am going to the hospital with some of the nursing students. I talked to the pharmacology teacher after class today and she said I can teach for her within the next couple weeks, she will give me a topic on Friday. So that is exciting/nervous. One day down! 

My office!