Mwalimu watoto mzungu?!

The great thing about standing out in a small town is that running into someone familiar everywhere that you go is inevitable.  The not-so-great thing about standing out in a small town is that running into someone familiar everywhere that you go is inevitable.  It all depends on the mood of the day.

Yesterday was fantastic.  While bumping down the dirt road to Mwasama, I noticed a large group of my students walking down the road.  I had Elias pull over, hopped out of the van and joined them.  They were on their way to visit the under-construction new site of Mwasama, about two miles outside of Bagamoyo.  So, we walked, and walked, and walked.  I thought about just how much my students in the states would complain about the walk - kids here are built tough and know how to live without mobile phones, or TV, or iPods.  It's refreshing.  After a rather hair-raising moment getting all of them across the treacherous Dar Highway (see previous post for details), we walked in a single file line down the side of the road, teachers posted at the beginning, middle, and end of the line.  I brought up the rear.  It was a perfect post, as I was able to watch the reactions of drivers by, seeing the normal sight of schoolkids walking down the road, followed by the somewhat befuddled expression as they saw me (again, I don't blend well).  A man rode his bicycle past, with another man sitting sidesaddle on the back of the bike (seeing two or more people on a bike is normal, as is seeing people on said bike carrying multiple large bottles of water, bags of rice, lumber, or live chickens - often a combination of the afore mentioned items).  The man on the back of the bike surveyed the situation with a puzzled expression.

"Mwalima watoto mzungu!?"  He didn't intend it to be heard by us, but by the driver of the bike...but it carried.  The teacher of the students is a mzungu?!

Students turned to see my reaction.  Once they saw that I was laughing, they busted up, too.  I'd like to think that it was a bonding moment, but am pretty sure they were just laughing at me.

When we arrived at the "new" Mwasama, the school's owner, Mama Mwajuma was there to meet us.  Students ran all over the new space, chattering excitedly about it.  I spoke with Mama, about a correspondence program between my classes and some at Mwasama.  I also started a discussion of incorporating more literature into the students' time.  She seemed open to the idea and said that she'd welcome a meeting to continue a discussion.  She's a benevolent woman, the students obviously appreciate her presence, as they all greet her with, "Good Morning, Bibi." (grandma)

We walked back toward town, students fighting over who got to carry my bag.  I was able to talk with many of them and learn more about their lives.  Kids are very much the same here as anywhere.  They want approval, to succeed, and to feel like they matter.  After we returned to town and dropped the students at the soccer fields, I left them, feeling somewhat inspired and excited about the possibility of making a lasting connection and contribution between myself and Bagamoyo. I stopped by the town's only ATM and, by some rare stroke of luck, it both worked AND had money in it!  I started a circle through town, stopping in at some shops and other volunteer placements to say hello or pick up items.  After a rather thorough tour through town, down to the beach by the fish market, back by Rasti's to discuss some artwork, with a quick stop at AMAP to say hello to the kids and pick up a shirt she'd made plus a birthday gift for another volunteer, I worked my way through Baga, stopping to say hello to new friends.  Walking with a spring in my step, I passed two wazungu, said hello, and about fell over when their reply was with an American accent.  Most other foreigners, while rare, are from Europe.  I stopped and talked to them a bit - two Peace Corps volunteers stationed in South Africa, just up in Bagamoyo for a few days.  Later, I learned that another volunteer from our group had met them last weekend at the Full Moon party on Zanzibar!  All the way in Africa, it really is a small world.  I turned the corner to head up the hill to the internet cafe just as a group of about 25 nursery school kids crossed the highway.  They immediately surrounded me, some wanting to hold my hand, others a fist pound, others just skipped in front, shouting, "Mzungu! Mzungu!"  Somehow, when it's little kids saying it, it's cute.  I must admit, the use of it by adults is growing old.

As do most Americans these days, we've turned many things that were never meant to be into verbs.  We have contests to see how many times a person can be "mzungu-ed" or "shikamoo-ed" each day.

What I appreciate most is when I'm greeted in the way that anyone would greet a local, especially by the traditional women.  Men usually try out their english skills with thoughtful and creative statements, often shouted from a distance, such as "Heeeellllooo, girlfreeeend," or "I loooove you!"  But, when a women, dressed head to toe in kanga (more on that later) greets with "Hijambo, dada!" it's an honor.

The kanga, a cloth rectangle about six by four feet, often colorful and including a border and swahili proverb, is right up there with the bucket when it comes to an ultimate multitasker.  Women wear them as shirts, skirts, belts, head coverings, and all in about a thousand different ways.  Babies are tied to their mothers using kanga, and a rolled up kanga, coiled on top of the head provides a cushion for a heavy water bucket.  They're beautiful, come in many colors and patterns (there's even a Barack Obama kanga) and I've already bought four...though one needs to be careful, as the proverbs aren't always nice and salesmen looking for a sale will always tell you that it says something sweet.  I had one of mine translated after I bought it (the man said that it meant, "Thank you, Mama").  Its real meaning? "If you don't like me anymore, get rid of me."  Close.

We're off on safari tomorrow!  We'll leave after placement in the afternoon and drive six hours on dusty roads to the Udzungwa Mountains, a rainforest mountain range in the center of the country.  We'll stay one night there, then hike through the forest on Friday.  After lunch, we'll drive to Mikumi Park, where we'll stay at a tented camp (permanent tents with full furnishings inside - no Coleman camp tents here).  The previous visitors awoke to an elephant outside their tent!  The tents are suspended on a raised platform, with plumbing and an electric generator, so it's safe.  We'll do a few game drives on Friday afternoon, Saturday, and Sunday morning before returning to Bagamoyo.  I'm so looking forward to seeing more of the country and, with any luck, elephants, giraffes, and lions!

Wonder if they have a "My friend went on safari and all I got was this lousy kanga" kanga...