July 4, 2010
Happy We Get To Live In The Greatest Country Ever Day, American friends. :) Now go read a copy of the Constitution and remember why!
Our neighbor died last night. We didn't know him; he had been ill for some time. Apparently, most of Dar es Salaam did know him though. Large trucks carrying tents, tables and chairs woke us up throughout the night, unloading and building a small grandstand between our wall and theirs (they live across the street from us).
We live about a half mile down a dirt road, at a T-intersection with a smaller dirt road. One side of the T is now jammed with chairs, tents for shade, and cars. In fact, throughout the day, cars jammed almost every road in our neighborhood. We were fortunate to get out for church before the bigger crowd showed up; we tried to get home three times in the day but had to park far away and walk in the gate to put a purchased chicken in the refrigerator. They had laid the casket out right in front of our gate, with rows and rows of chairs backed right up to the gate...I had to ask people to get up just to access the pedestrian gate. Felt really bad about that. It would have been nice if they had asked before they blocked us out, but hey, they were having a much worse day than us.
I was so, so sad for this family who lost someone so obviously important in their lives. Even through the cultural fog, that is obvious. A parade of people dressed in fine clothes brought gifts for days. I put on a long skirt and sleeved shirt and carried a card over. I hope they received it in the spirit it was given. Barnabas helped me with the wording...he advised me not to go in their gate, or I would be exposing myself to many strangers asking for money or favors. I trusted him on this one. Even at the local church one Sunday, two people asked me for a job during worship...not cool, but a reminder of how desperately people here need work.
So, this man's body lay at our door for the entire Independence Day, and we finally got in the gate well after dark when they moved him in a hearse. Another sign he was someone of high standing: hearses are very uncommon here; it is the first one I have seen.
Thank God for friends we could spend the day with. We ordered pizza and felt very American for one insulated day at another friend's house.
Saturday, July 10, 2010
Zanzibar!
Amanda, our guest, thought it would be fun to go to Zanzibar, so I did what any adoring hostess would do...I booked a trip. We had Ruby and Henry in tow, so decided to keep it to one night with two days on the big island. The ferry was recommended by several friends, so we took the fast ferry. Ninety minutes rather than up to 4 hours on the slow ferries.
After barely making it to the port on time due to traffic, we pushed our way through a throng of porters and fake porters (called fleas here) to the boat. I had expected to be on one of the larger ferries, with two or three stories of cabins and decks, but instead we were in a smaller speedboat, like the ones you can ride in Chicago or other port cities. Seating about 30-40, it was a nice if sometimes choppy ride northeast to Zanzibar. Once past Mbudja Island off of Mbezi Beach, the water got pretty big at times, but was always deep sapphire blue, with bright aqua (the exact color of most pool bottoms in the US) reef areas around the little islands dotting the coast of Tanzania.
On the ferry ride, I sat next to a nice Muslim couple from Madagascar. The wife was removing her long covering as we sat down, revealing stylish capris and a slim-fitting t-shirt underneath. They explained that she only has to wear the traditional garmets when with her family, whom they had been visiting in Dar. It was kind of funny to see them using the pieces of her dark gown as sunshades and pillows on the ferry ride. Within the first 30 minutes, Henry and my new neighbors were sleeping, and the final hour of the trip went quickly.
We approached Zanzibar from the south, passing by the fingerlike southern peninsula and Prison Island, and finally saw Stone Town for the first time. By the time we came into port, we were definitely ready to be on land. Little did we know how luxurious that boat ride would seem later!
Once on the dock, we collected our bags and went through 'customs', then walked out to the dozens of taxis all trying to convince us they were there for us. However, none of them knew our name or contact, so we waited several minutes until a small van pulled up, with a man who knew our names.
The short ride through Stone Town to our hotel just north of there was interesting. Zanzibar seemed more vibrant, maybe because almost every view is set against the glittering Indian Ocean. One big difference we noticed is that the hand carts present everywhere in Tanzania were usually pulled by donkeys or cows on Zanzibar; they are always pulled by men in Dar. Nobody could give me a reason why.
Another slight difference between Dar and the island is that the island is over 90% Muslim. Almost all women wear full burkas or at least the full covering (head to feet, but not faces), often in black. One of our guides told us the black is only for women traveling out of their village. We did see one woman in a brightly tie-dyed garmet, and I felt she was a kindred spirit.
Imani Villa Hotel sits in the middle of a fishing village, next to a school of the Koran. A lovely spot with a small beach, tree house bar and restaurant, I loved it immediately. Simon and Kristen, the owners, do a great job making the few rooms lovely and comfortable. Each is unique and filled with useful, gorgeous antiques from eclectic Zanzibar. The food there was exceptional (I had barracuda with coconut sauce that I am still thinking about today) and the atmosphere sets it apart from more tourist-y places.
We toured Stone Town, went in several shops, didn't take as many pictures as I hoped due to managing two tired children, and returned to the villa for some food and rest. The sunset over the ocean was a real treat, something we don't get living on Tanzania's eastern seaboard.
Tuesday morning our goal was to see some of the wild monkeys living at the forest in the southern part of Zanzibar. The guide picked us up and drove about an hour through villages and past some swanky estates that he said were wealthy government officals' homes. Reaching the forest ranger station, we paid a small fee, read some literature about wildlife there, and went with our guide down a path toward the main forest.
After less than a half mile we saw several monkeys playing with a group of tourists. Apparently, these simians are quite used to humans and were a little too friendly at times when we followed our guide into the forest to see more. One adolescent kept trying to climb up my long skirt, reaching my back at one point. We left with good photos and a little creeped out.
After a few more hours on the hotel beach relaxing, we returned to the dock and breezed through paperwork and on to the bigger ferry. Deceptively comforted that this ride would be somehow better than the last one (which wasn't bad at all), we settled into our seats on the outside of the top deck.
Soon, the deck was filling up. Apparently they sold many more tickets than they had seats for, which I didn't think was supposed to happen on the first-class deck. However, people kept pouring in, and we held tight to our seats. There were dozens of people standing in aisles, sitting on every inch of deck, and as we left the dock, more came out of the air conditioned cabin to photograph Stone Town. I wanted these photos too, but knew that the second I stood up, two people would take my seat.
Sick bags were immediately distributed by a deck officer, and Amanda and I looked at each other gloomily. A child sitting in front of us on the floor vomited immediately into a clear plastic bag, and several people tried to get her father to put the clear bag into one of the opaque black sick bags...the sight of the vomit was making others feel ill. The girl and her father didn't speak swahili or english, but they finally got the message.
The ride proved as rough as the the bags had suggested. Throughout the first hour, more people than I can count threw up around us. Thankfully, everyone was very tidy about it. Amanda's greenness told me she was having as rough a time as I was. Choppy, big waves and wind gusts kept the boat rocking and bouncing the entire time, and finally, as I spotted the mainland, I joined the crowd of the seasick. That night, when Ruby talked with Len on the phone, she said, "Mommy threw up four times in her little black bag. Henry said, 'Hey!' (which he did, since I had to lean over him to hit the bag) and then we sang songs."
Indeed, we did sing a couple of Rich Mullins songs before and after my seasickness, and I'm glad Ruby remembered that part. And I did feel much better afterward. We left our little bag with its top firmly knotted shut among the dozens of other neat bags on deck when we left, collected our bags, and found our taxi driver to take us home (the 45 minute ride took over THREE hours with traffic!).
Another highlight of the trip was that I discovered that Zanzibar, aka Spice Islands, is home to many of the fresh spices I have been unable to find here on the mainland. How silly of me to not know that!
One last note...we are not on some huge vacation here. :) We just happen to live on the coast of an amazing country, where the free beach is one of the only places to take preschoolers! The photo above is the sunset over the Indian Ocean from Zanzibar...something we don't get to see living on the mainland.
Wednesday, June 9, 2010
Africa Traffic
Saturday morning grocery shopping has turned into my favorite weekend 'mom' time. Leaving home by 8 AM means arriving at the store just after it opens at 8:30 (this is the bigger, modern-ish grocery south of us) and, even with a quick stop at the Royal Oven Bakery for a roll, getting there and back by 9:30 or so.
This Saturday, however, the French School on the peninsula was having a boot sale (rummage sale) and I decided to go and see if I could score some baking sheets. They are between $10-20 new here for little cheap-o sheets, and I scored three antique, but usable, baking sheets for just under $1 each at the sale. I took some friends along, and decided to grocery shop that evening. Len had worked all day and it was good to be in the car alone as the sun set behind me.
Humming 'The Freaks Come Out At Night' as I cruised down to Shoppers, I realized that I have only been driving one month here. Yes, I was chicken for an entire month after we moved here and only went out if Len drove.
It reminded me of the movie Traffic, with Catherine Zeta Jones and her drug-trafficking husband. When he is arrested, she is shocked and surprised that he is involved in illicit dealings, but quickly realizes that her comfortable lifestyle is about to end and picks up the business where he left off. She quickly turns from a sweet mom and housewife to a savvy, cutthroat drug lord. It is unsettling how seamlessly she moves from one life to another.
Now understand that nobody here is involved in anything illegal, and Len has not been arrested. But my transformation from timid rulemonger to fullblown agressive driver has been no less shocking than Zeta Jones' Jekyll and Hyde.
So Saturday night, as I flew down to the grocery store, windows down and passing whomever I could however I could (if there are laws regarding this, someone please inform me), it occured to me - I've come a long way in the last month. From being afraid to being downright aggressive. If you are just an assertive driver here, you will be passed on the road or while waiting to turn into traffic and the drivers will shake their heads and roll their eyes. I am trying to get over letting this hurt my feelings as I find a balance between pulling into moving traffic like everyone else going around me is, and waiting for a reasonable opening (which the car behind me just zipped around me and took!!!)
Some fun things I've seen in traffic lately include two large cows in the back of a tiny white pick-up truck (wish I had my camera for that one!), numerous trucks full of men all standing up in the bed of the truck, racing down the road and getting some pretty long air time over speed bumps, people going the wrong way around roundabouts because they are too lazy to go the 3/4 distance correct route. There are a lot of driving school vehicles here, too. A sign of the growth?
There have been some fun times, too, like driving through water so deep that it was sloshing in through the bottom of our truck's door. And the taxi ride I took with the kids in a sedan; we drove through water halfway up the door that was coming in the floorboards and soaked our bottoms through the cloth seats. But we made it through both situations with no trouble.
Sunday, May 16, 2010
Beware the Benevolent Mosquito
They don't exist. That mosquito that was just flying near your arm but jumped away when you swatted at it? It didn't leave. In fact, it is probably on your ankle right now, having a nightcap.
Mosquitoes are rather out of control here. As I've mentioned before, our house isn't particularly 'buggy', but in the mornings and evenings, especially around this nice, warm computer and my CO2 output, there is always a steady feed, only one at a time (perhaps they have a labor agreement? Contract?) and they are sneaky smart. Most of them don't buzz, they can jump in almost any direction, and the good ones instinctively know defensive maneuvers that could help any military training system.
Mosquito nets are of use once you study the mozzies. Our first week here, we would carefully check the inside of each net for the tiny torpedos, killing them after ungraceful acrobatics as we lurched and smashed our hands wildly against anything hard. However, a few nights of waking covered with bites led us to inspect under the beds as well (a fitting dark place for dark creatures of the night) and then I realized that they were actually riding into the bed/net ON our clothing and in our hair as well. I want to call them a bad word right now but won't.
The racquet of death is new to our pro-blood conservation movement; it looks like a cheap plastic tennis racquet, but in the double-layer plastic 'net' is a thin wire mesh that produces an electric current when activated. POP! POP POP POP! The smell of frying blood was never so satisfying. (for those of you who don't know me well, I have never to my knowledge actually smelled frying blood before this experience.) It makes me feel like I'm doing something to deal with the problem of bug bites on myself and my children.
I think there is a fine line to be walked between DEET-ing or DDT-ing entire households and neighborhoods, even countrysides, and poisoning children and animals, and being conscious of what is around you. Education also goes a long way in helping us determine how to best address the pro-blood conservation issues for our family. Malaria, while a concern, is only carried by one of over 3,000 types of mosquito. And that mosquito has to be within range to bite someone who has malaria and you in a short amount of time in order for you to get it. There are very reliable blood tests available over the counter here that tell you within minutes if you have malaria, and treatment is available here. In fact, Len and I have had the pleasure of stabbing each other's fingers with needles to take the test. Negative on both counts, thankfully.
Still, mozzies carry all kinds of other nasty parasites and disease; they are NOT our friends. And the one I just swatted away from my face (although I am getting quite good at smashing them one-handed in the air) is getting ready to burn in racquet hell. As soon as I find it....
Butter Pecan Balls
Forget that these have neither butter nor pecans in them. They leave you with the feeling that you've just had the finest buttered pecans known to man. Although I don't know anyone who has eaten buttered pecans. They just have that rich taste and aftertaste that tummies everywhere long for - a digestive warm fuzzy if there ever was one. I had to test several of these before naming exactly what the joy in my belly was.
For the gluten-free, casein-free crowd, the recipe below is fine. For those of you not constrained by dietary issues, you may substitute butter and regular Rice Krispies, which will cut down on cost, and I suspect the gluten in the cereal might also help hold them together.
2 eggs, beaten
1/2 C gfcf margarine or pure ghee
1/2 lb dates, finely cut (for the gf crowd, Ener-g has a packaged, pre-chopped version that is nice)
1 1/2 C crisp rice cereal; I used Koala Krisp, a gfcf item I brought to Africa)
1/2 C nuts, finely chopped (think powder for maximum holding power and kid-friendliness); I used cashews
1 t. vanilla
2 C finely shredded coconut (called coconut powder here), unsulphured
Combine eggs, margarine and dates in saucepan over low heat, stirring constantly. Bring to boil and boil for two minutes.
Remove from heat and add cereal, nuts and vanilla. Stir until well mixed.
Allow to cool and shape into little balls about 1" in diameter (depending on ingredients, this might take a bit of squishing) and roll in coconut.
These are high in protein and are a great no-sugar-added lunchbox staple or candy. Enjoy!
For the gluten-free, casein-free crowd, the recipe below is fine. For those of you not constrained by dietary issues, you may substitute butter and regular Rice Krispies, which will cut down on cost, and I suspect the gluten in the cereal might also help hold them together.
2 eggs, beaten
1/2 C gfcf margarine or pure ghee
1/2 lb dates, finely cut (for the gf crowd, Ener-g has a packaged, pre-chopped version that is nice)
1 1/2 C crisp rice cereal; I used Koala Krisp, a gfcf item I brought to Africa)
1/2 C nuts, finely chopped (think powder for maximum holding power and kid-friendliness); I used cashews
1 t. vanilla
2 C finely shredded coconut (called coconut powder here), unsulphured
Combine eggs, margarine and dates in saucepan over low heat, stirring constantly. Bring to boil and boil for two minutes.
Remove from heat and add cereal, nuts and vanilla. Stir until well mixed.
Allow to cool and shape into little balls about 1" in diameter (depending on ingredients, this might take a bit of squishing) and roll in coconut.
These are high in protein and are a great no-sugar-added lunchbox staple or candy. Enjoy!
Wednesday, May 12, 2010
Who DOESN'T Want Tropical Heat and Humidity?
Really, that's the question...here are several excellent reasons for embracing it. I should add that we are going into the 'cool' season now, where highs are only in the 80s or so. Still, plenty of wet heat for me!
Heat and humidity are my friends because:
Heat and humidity are my friends because:
- Steaming tortillas is a thing of the past. Take one out of the freezer, set it on the counter, and within five minutes, you're ready to go. Those of you who know my addiction to bean burritos, celebrate with me!
- Age lines have turned back 10 years. Who needs a peel or lift? Let your cells be plumped from the inside and outside by good old H2O. Everyone here looks 10 years younger than they should.
- Forgot to bring lotion? No worries! The same moisture that erases age lines is drenching your entire body. Sweat, lotion, what's the difference, really? It's all shiny on your skin.
- Shortly after the sun rises, it is too hot even for mosquitoes to come out and play. Enjoy bite-free days here in sub-Saharan Africa!
- Get rid of that silly tanning studio membership. Slather on the 70 SPF and watch yourself toast in the heat of the day. Why pay for something you can get for free?
- Home schooling? For a fun biology project, simply leave any food item on the counter for more than 6 hours, and observe the life of fungus. Bonus: on really hot days, you can even watch food decompose in the refrigerator - while it's running!
I could list many more benefits to tropical heat, and certainly have many more to learn. Updates as necessary. :)
Sunday, May 9, 2010
Mother's Day Meditation
A prayer born this Mother's Day, 2010:
Holy Spirit, cultivate in my heart infinite desire for holiness;
search my heart, straighten me to you.
Spirit of Christ, teach me.
ABBA, Father, discipline and comfort.
Let my lips speak only truth,
sharpen my discernment in your fire.
Let me hunger and thirst for your Word forever.
Rain your Spirit on my soul:
Fire that refines,
Wind giving life and breath,
Oil of anointing, preparing and maintaining, sustaining, restoring.
Dove of peace, of fulfilled promises,
bring courage and boldness and joy
like wine poured in celebration.
Seal my heart
that I may live with you always.
Holy Spirit, cultivate in my heart infinite desire for holiness;
search my heart, straighten me to you.
Spirit of Christ, teach me.
ABBA, Father, discipline and comfort.
Let my lips speak only truth,
sharpen my discernment in your fire.
Let me hunger and thirst for your Word forever.
Rain your Spirit on my soul:
Fire that refines,
Wind giving life and breath,
Oil of anointing, preparing and maintaining, sustaining, restoring.
Dove of peace, of fulfilled promises,
bring courage and boldness and joy
like wine poured in celebration.
Seal my heart
that I may live with you always.
Saturday, May 8, 2010
The Leakey Collection
This is a little out of order, but the most exciting thing shaking my brain tonight so I want to share it with you.
On my trip to Nairobi this week, one day was spent driving almost 5 hours into the bush country, around the Rift Vally in Kenya, over a one-lane road on a lake, and up a mountain to what to me was paradise.
Katy and Philip Leakey live on top of a mountain in well-appointed tents, their amenities powered by the sun. Gracious and wise, they practice what they preach: conservaton. Water is carried daily from a stream and purified. Their environment shapes their routines.
What they are doing in this setting, however, is even more beautiful than the wildflowers dotting the slope outside the dining tent or the dozens of wildly varying butterfly species inhabiting the range.
Using recycled materials from the local area, such as dry grass even too tough for animals to eat and fallen wood, they develop beautiful jewelry, serving pieces and other elegant items and train workers from the local Maasai tribe (this is a tribe National Geographic loves for their bright clothing and extravagant beaded neck collars and enormously stretched and decorated earlobes) to produce the items from start to finish.
Just to make sure you got that: they take trash and make treasure out of it, giving credit to local tribesmen and women and providing for them a way to pay for medical, education and living expenses.
The various projects employ hundreds of Maasai men and women, and are sustainable to the point that the Maasai could carry the projects on alone if they had to. But the Leakeys are brilliant creators of fine items and also of systems that make each part of business work, and have gained a sincere mutual appreciation from the local tribes. They are passionate about helping the environment and helping the Maasai thrive after devastating drought several years ago that wiped out much of the Maasai economic cycle when great numbers of cattle died or had to be moved hundreds of miles away. All of their products are environmentally friendly and fairly traded.
Anyway, don't take my word for it, look at their website and buy some of their beautiful items at http://www.leakeycollection.com/. Their Zulubead necklace strands are also available at http://www.karamagifts.com/ along with many other fair-trade items from Eastern Africa.
On my trip to Nairobi this week, one day was spent driving almost 5 hours into the bush country, around the Rift Vally in Kenya, over a one-lane road on a lake, and up a mountain to what to me was paradise.
Katy and Philip Leakey live on top of a mountain in well-appointed tents, their amenities powered by the sun. Gracious and wise, they practice what they preach: conservaton. Water is carried daily from a stream and purified. Their environment shapes their routines.
What they are doing in this setting, however, is even more beautiful than the wildflowers dotting the slope outside the dining tent or the dozens of wildly varying butterfly species inhabiting the range.
Using recycled materials from the local area, such as dry grass even too tough for animals to eat and fallen wood, they develop beautiful jewelry, serving pieces and other elegant items and train workers from the local Maasai tribe (this is a tribe National Geographic loves for their bright clothing and extravagant beaded neck collars and enormously stretched and decorated earlobes) to produce the items from start to finish.
Just to make sure you got that: they take trash and make treasure out of it, giving credit to local tribesmen and women and providing for them a way to pay for medical, education and living expenses.
The various projects employ hundreds of Maasai men and women, and are sustainable to the point that the Maasai could carry the projects on alone if they had to. But the Leakeys are brilliant creators of fine items and also of systems that make each part of business work, and have gained a sincere mutual appreciation from the local tribes. They are passionate about helping the environment and helping the Maasai thrive after devastating drought several years ago that wiped out much of the Maasai economic cycle when great numbers of cattle died or had to be moved hundreds of miles away. All of their products are environmentally friendly and fairly traded.
Anyway, don't take my word for it, look at their website and buy some of their beautiful items at http://www.leakeycollection.com/. Their Zulubead necklace strands are also available at http://www.karamagifts.com/ along with many other fair-trade items from Eastern Africa.
Real Life Sets In
But if you're looking for a sad story, this isn't it. :) Len's boss here graciously gave us the month of April to get settled, attend to the business of getting a driver's license, bank account, and other legal matters, and just get oriented. It was a great gift, and the timing has been perfect as Len has been easing into projects, and also because it takes many weeks and multiple visits to the bank to open an account here, and there is also the bonus random closings of businesses that we have yet to figure out.
The good news is that we were able to maximize our time being productive and also spending time as a family. Those of you who know me well know that I was pretty anxious about the latter since Len and I didn't really spend a lot of time together in the states. As it turns out, we really do enjoy living together!
Preschool was not on our radar as there wasn't one near us when I looked into it several months ago, but one has just opened very close to our home and Ruby and Henry are there two mornings a week, enjoying it very much. There is a tortoise and several other animals outside that they interact with, as well as working on colors, letters, etc. and most importantly, playing with new friends!! We are very thankful for this surprise blessing.
House family (employees who work within our walls) are also falling into place very nicely, with Barnabas being our key hire, who cleans, does laundry, organizes everything, and keeps the plants from dying. He has been infinitely valuable to us as he is proficient in English and fluent in Swahili, and has kept me from crying many times when I needed to interact with someone who only spoke Swahili. Language lessons are also informally administered; he will write down a list of Swahili words and their English equivalents, and after there are five or six on the list, he'll say something like, "That's plenty for today." Sadly, those few words are often too much for me to master in one day.
We have also hired a woman, Zena, to work two days a week washing and prepping produce (everything must be washed and many things must be peeled here before consuming) and helping with the kids as there is a never-ending parade of workers in and out to connect internet, check broken things, etc.
Having things fixed is tricky because you never really know when someone is coming. Yesterday, the electrician was supposed to visit at 10 AM to look at a few items, but never showed up. However, he did arrive today (on a holiday) but we weren't able to have him check everything as we had to leave and Barnabas has the holiday off. Kind of random and similar to the businesses closing at random. Also in this vein, we had been referred to a good butchery but it has not been open any times we stopped by. I am told to go to the butchery first thing in the morning to get the meat fresh, before it has hung in the hot window all day. Probably will take that advice.
We try to buy locally, which includes eggs from some squatters living near us in an unfinished house. We get 30 fresh (as in, less than 24 hours old) eggs for 6,000 shillings, which is just under $5.00. Not bad. The yolks are firm and yellow, and we wash them before putting them in the fridge. There are several dukas within walking distance that sell various fruits and vegetables, and they might have something one day but not the next. Menu planning is a little tricky because of this but we're learning to adapt recipes and be flexible. Len is currently out meeting with a man to look at a generator for our house, and he is also searching for ground beef as we cannot find any today. There is a supermarket about 20-90 minutes away depending on traffic, which may be the only place that has it today. But since we don't have time to get there and back, sloppy joes might have to wait until another day.
Intentionally living with one vehicle, we are learning to plan better than before and again to be flexible. Since Len works just a couple of miles away from our house (and right across the road from the ocean!) it has been pretty easy to manage.
More about recent road and air trips soon...trying to catch up a lot of life in one post here. :)
The good news is that we were able to maximize our time being productive and also spending time as a family. Those of you who know me well know that I was pretty anxious about the latter since Len and I didn't really spend a lot of time together in the states. As it turns out, we really do enjoy living together!
Preschool was not on our radar as there wasn't one near us when I looked into it several months ago, but one has just opened very close to our home and Ruby and Henry are there two mornings a week, enjoying it very much. There is a tortoise and several other animals outside that they interact with, as well as working on colors, letters, etc. and most importantly, playing with new friends!! We are very thankful for this surprise blessing.
House family (employees who work within our walls) are also falling into place very nicely, with Barnabas being our key hire, who cleans, does laundry, organizes everything, and keeps the plants from dying. He has been infinitely valuable to us as he is proficient in English and fluent in Swahili, and has kept me from crying many times when I needed to interact with someone who only spoke Swahili. Language lessons are also informally administered; he will write down a list of Swahili words and their English equivalents, and after there are five or six on the list, he'll say something like, "That's plenty for today." Sadly, those few words are often too much for me to master in one day.
We have also hired a woman, Zena, to work two days a week washing and prepping produce (everything must be washed and many things must be peeled here before consuming) and helping with the kids as there is a never-ending parade of workers in and out to connect internet, check broken things, etc.
Having things fixed is tricky because you never really know when someone is coming. Yesterday, the electrician was supposed to visit at 10 AM to look at a few items, but never showed up. However, he did arrive today (on a holiday) but we weren't able to have him check everything as we had to leave and Barnabas has the holiday off. Kind of random and similar to the businesses closing at random. Also in this vein, we had been referred to a good butchery but it has not been open any times we stopped by. I am told to go to the butchery first thing in the morning to get the meat fresh, before it has hung in the hot window all day. Probably will take that advice.
We try to buy locally, which includes eggs from some squatters living near us in an unfinished house. We get 30 fresh (as in, less than 24 hours old) eggs for 6,000 shillings, which is just under $5.00. Not bad. The yolks are firm and yellow, and we wash them before putting them in the fridge. There are several dukas within walking distance that sell various fruits and vegetables, and they might have something one day but not the next. Menu planning is a little tricky because of this but we're learning to adapt recipes and be flexible. Len is currently out meeting with a man to look at a generator for our house, and he is also searching for ground beef as we cannot find any today. There is a supermarket about 20-90 minutes away depending on traffic, which may be the only place that has it today. But since we don't have time to get there and back, sloppy joes might have to wait until another day.
Intentionally living with one vehicle, we are learning to plan better than before and again to be flexible. Since Len works just a couple of miles away from our house (and right across the road from the ocean!) it has been pretty easy to manage.
More about recent road and air trips soon...trying to catch up a lot of life in one post here. :)
Friday, April 30, 2010
Happy Henry Day!
"WHAT am I going to do with a BOY?!"
My first words upon meeting oxygen-breathing Henry for the first time were not the most eloquent perhaps, but I have found myself thinking them, "WHAT am I going to do with this boy?!" many times since that day three years ago.
His name means "ruler of the house" and my thirty pound powerhouse doesn't realize that a preschooler is not meant to rule the house. So, my job for the time being is to help him learn patience. And obedience. And teach him kindness and love and faith. And that we are little and God is big. Yet to Henry, everyone else is little and he is big. So we have some distance to go.
Three years ago today, I drove myself to the hospital (at my insistence - it didn't make sense to me to make Len and Ruby get up in the night so that they could sit somewhere and wait) and checked in, eager to meet face-to-face the lively baby growing inside me. After 12 hours or so of labor, out he screamed. Henry has had opinions from the beginning. (After spending some time with Ruby that morning, Len did come to the hospital...I don't want anyone thinking he wasn't attentive. But let's face it...there isn't much for the man to do in the birthing process.)
Hard as it is to believe that the little ruddy body laying on my chest that night has grown into a strong, tall young boy, he was parading his spunk all day today. Playing with new friends here, running along the surf with his friend Gabriel on the beach at lunch, hunting sand crabs and dodging the water, eating nachos and cake for dinner, ordering each bite. Maybe it's the heat, or the stress of moving, but he has been napping more here than he ever did in Indianapolis, and I will confess that his curly hair falling across my legs on the sofa makes my heart melt in 18 directions. Such a little boy, but wanting to rule over all.
Happy Henry Day, and may we enjoy many more together!
My first words upon meeting oxygen-breathing Henry for the first time were not the most eloquent perhaps, but I have found myself thinking them, "WHAT am I going to do with this boy?!" many times since that day three years ago.
His name means "ruler of the house" and my thirty pound powerhouse doesn't realize that a preschooler is not meant to rule the house. So, my job for the time being is to help him learn patience. And obedience. And teach him kindness and love and faith. And that we are little and God is big. Yet to Henry, everyone else is little and he is big. So we have some distance to go.
Three years ago today, I drove myself to the hospital (at my insistence - it didn't make sense to me to make Len and Ruby get up in the night so that they could sit somewhere and wait) and checked in, eager to meet face-to-face the lively baby growing inside me. After 12 hours or so of labor, out he screamed. Henry has had opinions from the beginning. (After spending some time with Ruby that morning, Len did come to the hospital...I don't want anyone thinking he wasn't attentive. But let's face it...there isn't much for the man to do in the birthing process.)
Hard as it is to believe that the little ruddy body laying on my chest that night has grown into a strong, tall young boy, he was parading his spunk all day today. Playing with new friends here, running along the surf with his friend Gabriel on the beach at lunch, hunting sand crabs and dodging the water, eating nachos and cake for dinner, ordering each bite. Maybe it's the heat, or the stress of moving, but he has been napping more here than he ever did in Indianapolis, and I will confess that his curly hair falling across my legs on the sofa makes my heart melt in 18 directions. Such a little boy, but wanting to rule over all.
Happy Henry Day, and may we enjoy many more together!
Thursday, April 29, 2010
THIS is the Rainy Season
In a previous post, I referred to the rainy season as we had experienced it thus far, with short downpours each day. For four days now, however, it has barely stopped raining. So this is what they meant....
One main benefit to the rainy season is that it cools things off. 80 degrees never felt so cool! With a breeze, it's downright nice. The man who works in our house has asked for extra tea and coffee this week because he is cold, and the guard wears an insulated coat at night, with heavy boots. I try not to laugh at them, because I do find it quite funny to be 'cold' when it is still 80 degrees.
That said, I do miss the sunshine. Among the many benefits to the tropical heat here are that you don't have to defrost everything. Food can come out of the freezer for 10-20 minutes and be completely defrosted. On a normal sunny day, it is too hot for mosquitos and most other bugs to be active between dawn and dusk. With the rain, however, they are more active, and our yard is very wet right now and full of fun creatures, including a massive (5 inch) beetle I will post a picture of when I have the opportunity.
Henry and I went creature hunting today, but didn't find too much. I'm told the fun ones come out mostly at night and I haven't wanted to douse myself in bug spray any night this week. Len doesn't find it attractive. :)
Len was almost a casualty of the rain this week. He dropped off a friend and was running through the pedestrian gate (everyone here has two gates in their wall, one for a car and one for people) in the downpour with his head down against the rain, and it turns out the gate is a little short. He cut the top of his head and had a nasty bump, but is thankfully ok. With some antibiotic ointment and calendula, he'll be rescalped in no time.
Another casualty of the rain is the roads. While going to the market yesterday, I made it around a fallen tree near a bridge but had to turn back at a place where the water was very high and few trucks were making it through. Len drove through that place in the truck today and one that was deeper and made it, though. He said the water was up to the doors, although it didn't come in. On Tuesday I took our friend home and drove through one intersection where I actually started to feel seasick; all the road was covered with rushing water going the opposite direction of us, and when I returned through that intersection after dropping her off, part of the road had begun to wash out.
Doesn't seem to phase Africans too much, though. They just keep going on about life. When the tree was across the road, there were locals cutting it up and taking it away...it was cleared very quickly. No waiting for the city trucks to come and do it for them. Of course, I don't know if there are city trucks to come. But I do love the innovative spirits of the Africans I've met.
The rain is starting again. I'm sure we'll miss it when the dry season comes, but until then, I'll covet whatever sunshine God can throw this way.
One main benefit to the rainy season is that it cools things off. 80 degrees never felt so cool! With a breeze, it's downright nice. The man who works in our house has asked for extra tea and coffee this week because he is cold, and the guard wears an insulated coat at night, with heavy boots. I try not to laugh at them, because I do find it quite funny to be 'cold' when it is still 80 degrees.
That said, I do miss the sunshine. Among the many benefits to the tropical heat here are that you don't have to defrost everything. Food can come out of the freezer for 10-20 minutes and be completely defrosted. On a normal sunny day, it is too hot for mosquitos and most other bugs to be active between dawn and dusk. With the rain, however, they are more active, and our yard is very wet right now and full of fun creatures, including a massive (5 inch) beetle I will post a picture of when I have the opportunity.
Henry and I went creature hunting today, but didn't find too much. I'm told the fun ones come out mostly at night and I haven't wanted to douse myself in bug spray any night this week. Len doesn't find it attractive. :)
Len was almost a casualty of the rain this week. He dropped off a friend and was running through the pedestrian gate (everyone here has two gates in their wall, one for a car and one for people) in the downpour with his head down against the rain, and it turns out the gate is a little short. He cut the top of his head and had a nasty bump, but is thankfully ok. With some antibiotic ointment and calendula, he'll be rescalped in no time.
Another casualty of the rain is the roads. While going to the market yesterday, I made it around a fallen tree near a bridge but had to turn back at a place where the water was very high and few trucks were making it through. Len drove through that place in the truck today and one that was deeper and made it, though. He said the water was up to the doors, although it didn't come in. On Tuesday I took our friend home and drove through one intersection where I actually started to feel seasick; all the road was covered with rushing water going the opposite direction of us, and when I returned through that intersection after dropping her off, part of the road had begun to wash out.
Doesn't seem to phase Africans too much, though. They just keep going on about life. When the tree was across the road, there were locals cutting it up and taking it away...it was cleared very quickly. No waiting for the city trucks to come and do it for them. Of course, I don't know if there are city trucks to come. But I do love the innovative spirits of the Africans I've met.
The rain is starting again. I'm sure we'll miss it when the dry season comes, but until then, I'll covet whatever sunshine God can throw this way.
Saturday, April 24, 2010
Toaster Blackout Love
Len is a very helpful guy, and offered to take the kids to buy a refrigerator and a few other things while I organized a bit during our first week. There is a South African store in the city that sells AND delivers new appliances, so he decided to go there for the ease of delivery (otherwise we would have to find and hire someone with a truck to do it, and since we don't speak Swahili very well yet, this would be very difficult).
"The guy will be calling you for directions to our house, " he called after the purchase was made.
"Where do we live?" I asked from inside our house. I really had no idea where I was, other than the northern part of a large African city. Our house is about 100 yards up one of hundreds of unlabeled dirt roads I've seen here, and is surrounded by other similar houses.
"Just give him the main intersection at the roundabout." and we lost connection.
Well, I did know that we live near a roundabout. I didn't know that there are at least three roundabouts in this area of town. The names of the roads snaking from the roundabout were a complete mystery to me, as very few roads have signs or visible labels.
Soon the phone rang again. "LWIEEJHOEIMZOENWEUMDIDSDN?" said the delivery driver in Swahili. Now, I'm sure this gentleman speaks very eloquent Swahili, but I am still working on basic greetings and how to ask for prices three weeks later, and on this fresh-from-the-boat day, I couldn't even think of a proper greeting. It sounded like he was yelling the above phrase at me, and although I knew who he was and what he wanted, the conversation was going badly before I even spoke.
"Yes, asante," I started. You can't go wrong with thank you, right?
"MZURIEEBREE NGDOZEE" (note: these are not actual Swahili words, just what it sounded like he was saying)
"Are you the delivery driver? Do you have a refrigerator?"
End of call. He hung up.
A few minutes later, the phone rang again. Same conversation. Same ending. This happened two more times.
Finally, I found our house family guy, who speaks decent English and great Swahili. Approaching tears, I pushed the phone into his hand and asked him to answer it. I didn't understand anything he said, but about five minutes later a truck pulled in the gate and several men brought in our refrigerator. Thank you, Lord. Asante sana.
Another item Len purchased was a toaster. I am not a toast-loving person, in fact, I don't know that we have ever owned a toaster. Apparently, Len has been longing for one and so we kept it and set it up next to the electric kettle he also bought. A less overwhelmed person might have remembered that water takes forever to boil at sea level. I quickly came to love the kettle.
We were eager to test our neat little plastic appliances plugged neatly into a twin socket, and promptly filled the kettle with water and dropped a slice of bread into the toaster. Water boiled in less than a minute! When I pushed the lever on the toaster, however, the power went out.
Blackouts, we were told, are a common part of living in Dar. They happen frequently and without warning or a schedule. So we accepted that this was simply part of our new arrangement and proceeded to the next task on our list, and the next and the next, not really thinking about the blackout until we returned to a dark home hours later. Headlamps were distributed and I felt very rustic and local. We have no generator yet, and just assumed that everyplace we had been that day had a generator or weren't affected by the outage. Someone had even mentioned a blackout in our area. Anyway, we didn't realize until bedtime that we had just blown a fuse when the toaster started...Len figured this out and re-set the fusebox. He is become quite handy.
The defective toaster was returned to the store later that week. The woman behind the counter said, "It's not broken. I can fix it." and she pulled out a screwdriver and tools and took it apart on the spot, made some quick adjustments, and handed it back to Len. "It will work now."
When the toaster returned home, I was a little disappointed as I had secretly hoped Len would see the light and not get another one. He explained the lady's deft fixing and we plugged it in to give it a spin. Behold, it was healed. And as I turned it over to examine the settings, I noticed two small post-it notes from the counter lady:
"Want u 2b ma friend call me" and a name and phone number. We laughed for a long time.
I love that toaster now for providing us with so many laughs and I kept the post-its in my journal to provide additional laughter when I think of the day. Good medicine for the soul, it is.
"The guy will be calling you for directions to our house, " he called after the purchase was made.
"Where do we live?" I asked from inside our house. I really had no idea where I was, other than the northern part of a large African city. Our house is about 100 yards up one of hundreds of unlabeled dirt roads I've seen here, and is surrounded by other similar houses.
"Just give him the main intersection at the roundabout." and we lost connection.
Well, I did know that we live near a roundabout. I didn't know that there are at least three roundabouts in this area of town. The names of the roads snaking from the roundabout were a complete mystery to me, as very few roads have signs or visible labels.
Soon the phone rang again. "LWIEEJHOEIMZOENWEUMDIDSDN?" said the delivery driver in Swahili. Now, I'm sure this gentleman speaks very eloquent Swahili, but I am still working on basic greetings and how to ask for prices three weeks later, and on this fresh-from-the-boat day, I couldn't even think of a proper greeting. It sounded like he was yelling the above phrase at me, and although I knew who he was and what he wanted, the conversation was going badly before I even spoke.
"Yes, asante," I started. You can't go wrong with thank you, right?
"MZURIEEBREE NGDOZEE" (note: these are not actual Swahili words, just what it sounded like he was saying)
"Are you the delivery driver? Do you have a refrigerator?"
End of call. He hung up.
A few minutes later, the phone rang again. Same conversation. Same ending. This happened two more times.
Finally, I found our house family guy, who speaks decent English and great Swahili. Approaching tears, I pushed the phone into his hand and asked him to answer it. I didn't understand anything he said, but about five minutes later a truck pulled in the gate and several men brought in our refrigerator. Thank you, Lord. Asante sana.
Another item Len purchased was a toaster. I am not a toast-loving person, in fact, I don't know that we have ever owned a toaster. Apparently, Len has been longing for one and so we kept it and set it up next to the electric kettle he also bought. A less overwhelmed person might have remembered that water takes forever to boil at sea level. I quickly came to love the kettle.
We were eager to test our neat little plastic appliances plugged neatly into a twin socket, and promptly filled the kettle with water and dropped a slice of bread into the toaster. Water boiled in less than a minute! When I pushed the lever on the toaster, however, the power went out.
Blackouts, we were told, are a common part of living in Dar. They happen frequently and without warning or a schedule. So we accepted that this was simply part of our new arrangement and proceeded to the next task on our list, and the next and the next, not really thinking about the blackout until we returned to a dark home hours later. Headlamps were distributed and I felt very rustic and local. We have no generator yet, and just assumed that everyplace we had been that day had a generator or weren't affected by the outage. Someone had even mentioned a blackout in our area. Anyway, we didn't realize until bedtime that we had just blown a fuse when the toaster started...Len figured this out and re-set the fusebox. He is become quite handy.
The defective toaster was returned to the store later that week. The woman behind the counter said, "It's not broken. I can fix it." and she pulled out a screwdriver and tools and took it apart on the spot, made some quick adjustments, and handed it back to Len. "It will work now."
When the toaster returned home, I was a little disappointed as I had secretly hoped Len would see the light and not get another one. He explained the lady's deft fixing and we plugged it in to give it a spin. Behold, it was healed. And as I turned it over to examine the settings, I noticed two small post-it notes from the counter lady:
"Want u 2b ma friend call me" and a name and phone number. We laughed for a long time.
I love that toaster now for providing us with so many laughs and I kept the post-its in my journal to provide additional laughter when I think of the day. Good medicine for the soul, it is.
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