Inclusion is coming!

Mwalimu Godfrey helps Yohana get ready for the "potato sack" race as Joseph from Huruma and other kids from Pasiansi primary school look on.

David didn't do much, but he suggested one day that the kids with disabilities from Shule Huruma could play with the kids from the primary school next door during recess.  For some reason, when he started at Huruma, this wasn't happening. However, one of the teachers, Mwalimu Godfrey really got it together and organized some games and all the kids love it. Now it is a regular event that the kids without disabilities come over to play with our kids. At first they were kind of shy but David and the other teachers have been guiding them in introducing themselves and shaking hands- and with kids, that's usually about what it takes.  Oh, we have a few kinks with some of our kids; one particular little deaf boy named Yohana is still learning how to play nice, but we are making progress.  This was a huge step towards integrating kids with disabilities and kids without.  

Mwalimu Agnes jokes with some of the
kids from the primary school

For those of you who saw David's facebook birthday requests and decided to help out, thanks a ton!  Know that because of your help, soon more kids who can only get to school by bus will be able to experience something that will hopefully someday be a normal concept here; inclusion..

Check out this video of some field games Mwalimu Godfrey and Mwalimu Agnes set up with all the kids together.

Where have we been?

We know it has been WAY too long since our last update, so let's quickly play catch up. Since we last blogged we have:
1. Finished language school

After 3 months in the comfortable Makoko Language School nest, we were set free to fly on our own. Were we ready? Probably not, but after a quick graduation where we were required to give impromptu speeches in kiswahili, the teachers handed us our diplomas and wished us luck in our next three years of navigating Tanzanian culture and language.
2. Went on a trip of a lifetime
The day after language school we hopped on a plane to Arusha to meet up with Caitlin's family for an incredible safari in honor of her late Aunt Sue. As many of you know, Caitlin's aunt, who passed away last November, owned a travel company that specializes in safaris. Over many years she became very close friends with a Tanzanian man named Willy Chambulo who owns Kibo Safaris. In gratitude for Sue's friendship and mentorship Willy invited all of Sue's children and siblings to come to Tanzania and stay in several of his amazing camps and safari lodges, all expenses paid.
 We felt very blessed to be a part of this incredible trip. The highlights were driving into the middle the great wildebeast migration, sneaking up on 10 sleeping lions, spending the night in canvas tents in the middle of the Serengeti where lions and hyeanas could be heard right outside and getting the chance to show our family some of the reasons why we love this country (oh yeah and let's be honest, gin and tonics, swimming pools and the bathtub at Lake Masek Luxary Tented Camp). The most important and touching event of the trip was spreading Sue's ashes near a lake full of hippos. It was a very moving experience to watch her be returned to the land that she loved so much. We were honored to be a part of this trip are overwhelmed with gratitude for Willy and more than anything the legacy and memories of Sue.

3.  Started our jobs
As soon as we returned from our safari we jumped right into work. David immediately began testing his Swahili skills, getting to know the teachers and students at Huruma. Within days of starting he was already being asked to help write IEPs and figure out how to pay for the school bus. The bus situation has been a big challenge for the school because many of the parents cannot afford to pay their students share for the bus. This means that almost half of the students in the school have been staying home. David and the other teachers are wracking their brains for fundraising ideas to find a sustainable way for the school to pay for the bus. All in all the teachers are trying their hardest and many students face great challenges daily, yet it is a very happy place and David enjoys working there very much.
Caitlin has had a much slower start at the Butimba chekachea. She has spent the last few weeks observing in the two classrooms, struggling through tea time Swahili conversations with teachers who want to know everything about Europe and mzungu hair (they  haven't quite figured out that all white people don't live in Europe)and trying to sneak in some phonetic awareness songs and games when possible with the students. The kids are extremely eager to learn and Caitlin finds herself completely surrounded by them whenever she sits down to help a student. She will admit that she still gets completly giddy when she walks in the classroom and all of her students stop what they are doing, stand up and say "Good morning teacher Katie! How are you? We are fine, teacher Katie!"
In her weeks of observing Caitlin has noticed several areas where she feels the teachers can improve their use of class time, discipline techniques and engagment of the students in curriculum. She is bursting at the seams with ideas but is patiently waiting to share while she practices her Swahili, learns more about how schools in Tanzania work and builds relationships with her teachers and mkuu (head teacher).

4. We moved into our new house
We know that the suspense has been killing all of you waiting to hear which house we chose. (If any of you are remember our post from so long ago.) We chose...wait for it...the Mabatini house!

Caitlin cookin' up something 'licious

About three weeks ago we signed a year long contract and gave the owner a HUGE stack of Tanzanian shillings for the whole year's rent (the regular practice here) and a just a few short days later we moved in. We were a little hasty and probably moved in before we were ready but we were anxious to get out on our own and try our hand at Tanzanian life in the flesh.
Our first night was rough. The mosquito net was too small for our bed, we had to staple fabric over the window to serve as curtains and Caitlin came down with a crazy head cold. The biggest problem was that we didn't have enough gas in our stove to boil water so we had nothing to drink and more importantly we couldn't make tea for our new guard Julius as he took on his first overnight shift on our porch. To say that moving into a new home in Tanzania is a different experience than in the states is definitely  an understatement.
All in all we are much more settled now. At this point we have a bed, a stove, a refridgerator, a table, two couches and a whole lot of empty space.  Soon we will be ready to entertain guests with our many spacious rooms so get your tickets booked! 
That's some of the latest for life here- we'd love to hear from you if we haven't already. Shoot us an email if you'd like to know more or have an idea for how to get involved at rosser@mklm.org. Thanks for reading!

View from our front porch.

House of Compassion- Kigera Village

Father Mike Basano M.M., Liz Mach MKLM and watoto wengine (other children)

How do we describe the experience we just had?  Lord, help me.

This month a group of Americans have come over to Tanzania with a trip called Friends Across Borders (FAB) in order to see what MKLM, the Maryknoll Sisters, Fathers and Brothers are doing here.  Today the group got to travel to the House of Compassion at Kigera village, about an hour from Mkoko Language School and we were invited to come along. 

House of Compassion is a compound of about 70 people, all abandoned for one reason or another by society, even by their own families.  Here men and women with mental illnesses, orphans, people with HIV/ AIDS and other disabling factors that have left them unable to care for themselves in Tanzanian society, come together and live in community. While the rest of the society has told them that they are throw away people who are an unwanted burden, House of Compassion welcomes them with open arms, understanding and love.

To briefly describe the site, it was started in 1992 by a Tanzanian parish priest, Father Godfrey Bisako, who responded to the desperate needs he was seeing of homeless and abandoned people on the streets of Musoma and Mwanza.  He had started a similar house closer to Musoma in the 1980’s, but the house at Kigera is far bigger.  About two to two and a half football fields in size, the buildings were designed to provide security and a sense of community by surrounding the perimeter of the area, forming a rectangle, with the exception of a cross shaped chapel and a dispensary within their shape.  On one side are the rooms of an Italian Marist brother, Father Mike Basano and the other homeless men.  Adjacent is a long guest/dining room, another dining room and the kitchen, and adjacent to that are the rooms for women and children.

Bougainvillea

Still, describing the setting in no way conveys the experience of walking through this campus full of ducks, chickens, orange and magenta bougainvillea trees, people sitting on the ground with dejected faces that easily melted into smiles, people coming up to us, greeting us with that unique, warm Tanzanian hospitality, small children grabbing our hands and pant legs, babies being passed from arms to arms, people with obvious physical and mental disabilities wandering aimlessly, dancing and laughing. All of this was happening in one of the poorest countries in the world, where running water and electricity are not even a guaranteed luxury. Personally, I don’t think we have ever seen a place so desperate.

Yet, the day was filled with hope.  Without any fanfare and a with bouncing run, Father Mike Bassano, a Maryknoll priest, came running to greet us as we pulled in this morning.  Fresh, excited and eyes wide open, Father Mike toured us around the “village”, scooping up random children like a young grandfather and telling us their unimaginably heart breaking stories as he naturally bounced them on his hip or lovingly pinched their cheeks.  As we toured, a severely mentally disabled man interrupted Father Mike’s explanations several times, but the second generation Italian didn’t miss a beat and began joking with the man. It was clear the man thought he and Father Mike were equals, something he clearly learned from Father Mike who frequently is heard saying “We’re all in this together”.

Father Mike’s phrase is exemplified in many ways at the House of Compassion. Even though all of the compound’s residents have burdens of their own, they all manage to take care of one another. We saw babies being passed around between adults and older children, young children pushing wheelchairs of their elders and teenage girls helping with the cooking and cleaning. No one is forgotten about and everyone gets what he or she needs. Clothes are old and worn, the food is simple and the bedrooms are humble, but it appears that everyone’s needs are provided for.  

Mass was one of the most moving experiences we have had in a long time.   We sat in awe next to a seventy-five year old Tanzanian women, surrounded by people the world has more or less forgotten. Watching a boy called John Eybel (named after the priest who found his pregnant mother, who would later abandon her son, wandering the streets), diligently helping Fr. Mike on the alter we knew that here God had come in such a gentle, emphatic, loving way to tell these people, “I know your pain, I too suffered abandonment, loss and physical torture.  And I am here with you now.  You are not forgotten.”  The beautiful, tender harmony of the people’s singing and solemn kneeling on hard planks testified that possibly nowhere in the world was God’s love appreciated more, than here. 

After lunch, we took a trip to the lake to see the wind powered water pump and the meager farm.  Moses, one of the many children who from the beginning had latched on to our hands everywhere we went, kept saying to Caitlin, “Twende kaburini!“ (Let’s go to the graveyard!). It seemed like such an odd place for a four year old to insist on visiting, but when Father Mike explained that he often liked to take walks there with the children to remember the people, which their community had loved and lost, it made sense. It was so beautiful to see Moses and the other children walking happily among the dirt mound graves as if they were visiting old friends. The graveyard wasn’t a scary sad place for them, it was a familiar place filled with people they had been told stories about and people who they had loved and who had loved them. Truly death had lost it’s sting.

In the future, on desperate days when we ask, where is God, or what is he doing in this world, hopefully we will think back on what we saw today and remember. 

To see a video of the House of Compassion and Father Mike's work made by someone else, visit http://youtu.be/VhP7C9mUxxI

How We Spent our Language School Vacation . . .

After a whirlwind week in Mwanza, we have returned to Musoma to finish out our last month of language school. While some students spent the week pumzika (relax)-ing, we spent our week away from school taking care of business.   This included getting licenses, visiting work sites, shopping for rental houses, practicing driving and finishing our tax return.

Driver’s License:

Pretty much the same process is involved in getting a Tanzanian driver’s license as in the U.S., except, we had to go back and forth to the police station two blocks away three times, make a deposit at the bank and come back the next day to pick the license up.   All the same, when we got our licenses they looked pretty fancy, even fancier than our Washington licenses in David’s opinion.  They have some anti-counterfeiting translucent holograms on them that look cool, two pictures that would be pretty hard to copy and a graphic explanation of what class driver’s license we were given.  The best part was that the TRA (Tanzanian Revenue Authority) trusted the Department of Motor Vehicles in WA and didn’t make us retest- even though here in Tanzania they drive on the opposite side of the road.  We also give props to the TRA for their graphic organizer, which explained the process that one needs to go through to renew and obtain a license. It may not have been an accurate representation of what our process looked like in reality, but at least they are trying.

Houses

We looked at a lot of houses last week, some which fit all of our criteria, some that didn’t fit any and some that we could never afford with our humble Maryknoll stipend. The house hunting experience was quite an adventure as there is no official real estate infrastructure in Mwanza. Our hunt consisted of driving around Mwanza, picking up random acquaintances of other MKLMers and then driving with them to various rental houses they had heard about through word of mouth.  In the end, we have narrowed our search down to two houses.  We are pretty torn. Here are the contenders:

House A is in a neighborhood called Pasiansi and is within walking distance to several other Maryknoll Lay Missioners as well as an outdoor market that sells fresh fruit, vegetables and fish. It is a 45-minute dalladalla ride to Caitlin’s work, about a 15-minute drive to David’s work and about a 20 minute drive into downtown Mwanza. It has 3 bedrooms, 2 bathrooms, a living room, dining room, kitchen and pantry, all in a pretty basic almost American style layout. The yard is huge with a cool cement wash table but there are no trees in the all grass yard (there is no such thing as a lawnmower in Tanzania). 

House B is in a hillside neighborhood about 10 minutes outside of downtown Mwanza called Mabatini. It is about an half hour drive to the nearest Maryknoll Lay Missioner, but about 2 minute walk to a Maryknoll Parish run by a couple of really nice American Maryknoll Brothers and Priests. The parish is very active and appears to be growing quickly which would provide us the opportunity to take part in the parish community and possibly participate in the development of outreach programs. The house is much bigger than we need and has a sort of awkward layout, but it has been well maintained as it used to be the Maryknoll Fathers and Brothers house before they built a rectory at their church. The house sits on a grassy shaded lot with two other houses that are both owned by the former police chief, who lives in one of the homes part time. The other home is lived in by a current police officer. We aren’t sure exactly how long our commutes to work might be, but we think David’s commute might look more like a 40-minute drive and Caitlin’s commute by dalladalla we think might be closer to 30 minutes. One other thing we really liked about the house is that is also very close to an outdoor market and shops and there is a soccer field right beside it.

Opinions anyone???

 Caitlin’s Visit to Butimba

On Tuesday and Wednesday I spent two full days in my future classrooms. The teachers and students alike seemed very excited about me being there and I had to explain several times that I was only visiting and wouldn’t be starting full time until April. Even by the time I left, I’m not sure that anyone really understood.

The teachers I will be working with are very enthusiastic and appear very excited to have an American in their presence. They asked me several questions about America and told me several times that they wanted me to help them learn English. They were also very excited at my attempts to speak Swahili. It was a little bit awkward spending the entire day in the classrooms as a visitor because the teachers really wanted to put all of their energy into treating me like a guest. They were constantly coming to check on me, bring me tea, uji, homemade donuts and chapatti.  At one point one of my teachers even sent one of her 5 year olds out to the street to buy me a fresh deep- fried rice donut.  It was hard to find the balance of being polite and accepting all of their generosity and wanting to stand up and yell “FORGET ABOUT ME, TEACH THE KIDS!”

The children were also very enthusiastic, but amazingly quiet and focused in the classroom. That sat quietly on their mats; truly only spoke when spoken to and ALL of them participated in every activity.  It was like nothing I had ever seen in America. The kids were so eager to learn and please their teachers.  I think it is going to take me a very long time to get used to that.

The teachers use a lot of really great Montessori methods that allow for a lot of student participation.  They also use a lot more English than I expected. They give most directions in English which in turn require an English response from the students- like when the teacher says, “Stand up,” the students stand up and say in unison “We are standing up” or when she says “Sit down” the students all sit down and say, “We are sitting on our mats.” It is really quite adorable when they speak English because they have somewhat British accents so they don’t pronounce their “r”s . They say things like “sweata,” “teacha,” “ motha,” and “fatha”.  I think I could listen to them speak English in unison all day with a smile on my face.

Overall, the teachers are doing some really great things, but there is definitely a lot of room for improvement. I was literally bursting with suggestions by the end of my two days, but held back and bit my tongue knowing that I still have a great deal to learn about culture and education in Tanzania. (Teacher friends, I have a million other details to tell you about the classroom. If you are interested, send me and e-mail because I would love to tell you more about it.)

David’s Visit to Huruma

David’s visit to Huruma went just as well, although none of his teachers asked him to teach them English- go figure..   He said that the students appear to be learning and happy and the teachers seem to take great pride in the accomplishments of their students. It gives us a lot of joy to know that students with disabilities who once were not allowed to go to school and simply remained at home all day are now being educated in a flourishing school. The school is fortunate to have many teachers and aides, however, in time there certainly will be some ways to help them better their practice, and hopefully, integrate kids at other local public schools with the students at Huruma.

While David visited, though, someone had broken the spigot for the outside water, so he and one of the other teachers set to impromptu maintenance and made a makeshift stop.  Later in the week George Otte and David replaced the makeshift stop with a cap and placed a new spigot inside the small house where the water tank is.  

A Day in Our Life at Language School

We are humbled and honored to have heard some clamor for more info on what goes on for us here in Africa.  While there hasn't been much quite ready for Hollywood just yet, we are learning the language at a clipping pace.  Here are a couple of brief snapshots of what the daily life of a student at Mkoko Language School usually looks like.

7:00   Wake up!!   (much better than the standard at HPS, if I may be so bold).  Mass is celebrated at 7, so if we are to go, we usually arise about 15 minutes before seven, but, hey, who's counting?

7:30   Breakfast.   A light meal here, consisting of fruit, toast and an egg to order if one desires.  Fruits range from mango, papaya, pineapple, soursop, bananas, watermelon and lately oranges- all fresh from here on the grounds.  

Hamming it up between class!

8:00 Cram We usually eat quickly so that we can be back to our room by 8 for our 8 to 8:30 cram time.  Usually we are required to memorize mazungumzo  (conversations) or hadithi (stories) and these last precious moments help solidify those infixes and noun classes in our heads.


8:30 Mazungumzo Class
During our Mazungumzo class our teacher reads aloud a conversation between three fictional characters, Damas, Paskalia and Padri Robert (the American Missionary Priest who wants to know everything about everything) concerning topics such as land ownership laws, dowries and circumcision. The teacher also explains what all of the new vocabulary words mean and then they helps cement the sentences into our heads by making us repeat them outloud.  Then, usually, the next day we come in, recite the conversation from the previous day and then start the process over again. 


9:20 Hadithi Class

Damasi, Paskalia, na Padri Robert

A typical classroom with Mwalimu Joakim, Kim and Caitlin

In Hadithi class our teacher reads aloud a story about our friends Damas, Paskalia, and Padri Robert and then similar to the Mazungumzo class, they explain the meaning of the story and then painfully make us repeat each and every word after them. This has proven to be one of the harder classes for us because upon hearing a sentence like "Hapa kwetu, kulingana na kabila za wazazi, mtoto changa anapokelewa kwa furaha na anapewa jina lake"for the first time, the brain tends to shut down and only hear the voice of the parents from the Peanuts cartoons so when the teacher then looks at you and says "jaribu"(try), the only word you can get out is "Hapa...can you repeat that again?"Each time we are presented with a new story, we tend to get overwhelmed, but then after about a half hour of study we are able to memorize the stories and recite them perfectly in class the next day.

Walimu wa Mkoko:  L to R, Dismas, Sylvester and Joakim

10:10 Sarufi Class
Depending on who your teacher is, Sarufi or grammar class can either be an easy or more difficult class. If you have an experienced teacher light bulbs are turning on right and left and you can almost hear things clicking, but some teachers are still learning the ins and outs of explaining grammar in English and it takes a little cooperation to discern exactly how a new part of speech works. All in all, each teacher tries their best and we come to an understanding. During this class we have been introduced to all 12 of the noun classes and all the different tenses one could imagine, even some that don't exist in English.


10:50 Chai
If you ask the average 3rd grader what their favorite subject in school is, most will likely respond with "recess." Call me a 3rd grader, I think my favorite subject is Chai or tea time. Each day after our first 3 classes all of the students and teachers gather in the dining room to drink tea or coffee and eat homemade donuts, scones and occassionally left over pizza. While the refreshments are a bonus, what I honestly like the most about Chai time is that the teachers sit down with us like peers and chat with us. Sometimes we practice our Swahili and sometimes we just practice our English by talking about whatever burning questions the teachers have about America- everything from ice fishing to hip hop music. 


11:05 Mazoezi

For our last two periods of the day, we practice different exercises involving the vocab and grammar from the previous periods.  Depending on the day, this might involve a lot of the teacher saying (in a very distinct voice), "Tena?" (Again?) and hopefully a couple of "Sowas" (Okay, or good).


12:30-2  Lunch and Nap.  True to the warmer countries, a siesta is strictly enforced and appreciated (well, not really enforced, but nothing else is going on and it is terribly hot so the later is indeed true).


2:00-2:45   Language Lab.  All over again we listen to tapes of the teachers reading the Mazungumzo, Hadithi and Mazoezi as we follow along trying to anticipate the correct infixes and subject prefixes, or even the correct vocab word!   The machines are vintage Sony, but they serve their purpose faithfully unless the power is out.  Then, shida kubwa!  

3:00-3:45  Real Mazungumzo!   When we've had all we can of repeating, "Father has drank milk after eating bread," we head out to the benches under the tree where our teachers are leisurely waiting for us to engage in impromptu, meaningful conversation.  This is where the rubber meets the road.  Often the teachers are already deep in discourse on some topic and it takes all the muscles the ear has to just keep up with their electric chatter.  Finally a teacher will have mercy and ask us, in the equivalent of slow, southern drawl, "Caitlin, habari za mazoezi?" (if you guessed this means, how are your exercises, your ready for a visit).  The conversation to follow involves a lot of stumbling and looking to the sky on our part and patience and more "Tena?" on our teachers'!   Here's a short, somewhat staged clip of what typically ensues.   After five creative guesses in the comments section, we'll tell you what Dismas and David are actually talking about.  Guess away!

All in all, we are very grateful for our teachers and the patience and knowledge they give as we seek to learn Swahili!!

What happened when we asked Jerry and his Tanzanian friends if we could take pictures of them while they played soccer.  Needless to say, they went nuts.

A Walk Around Makoko

A view from the balcony of the school. If you look closely, you can see Lake Victoria in the background.

As per request, a picture of our "home".

After numerous requests by Caitlin’s dad to send pictures of our area, we finally set off on a picture taking expedition this afternoon. Little did we know, this walk would provide such a rich snapshot of Musoma and our experiences here.

As soon as we exited the gate of the language school, we ran into Father Art Willy engaged in his routine afternoon walk. The man is a Maryknoll legend. Rumor has it, he not only received language training from Nyerere (the first president of Tanzania- if you haven’t heard of him, look him up) but also spent the last two weeks of Nyerere’s life at his bedside in Great Britain and returned to Tanzania after Nyerere’s passing on a private jet with Nyerere’s family.

Next we walked to the Ephata Retreat center to take some pictures of Lake Victoria, as specifically requested by Caitlin’s dad. While sitting on the shore practicing the Swahili conversation that David has to recite tomorrow in class, we watched first one daring teenage boy swim out into the Bilharzia infested (look that up too) lake to dive off a rock followed by about 20 more naked and unashamed teenage boys. Bilharzia be damned they appeared to be having the time of their lives jumping in the waves. It sure made us wish we were oblivious to the skin-penetrating parasite that lives in the mud on the shores of the lake.

After realizing that we were being a little bit voyeuristic (clearly not intentionally), we decided to continue on our walk, shikamoo-ing every person who may or may not have been older than us and shouting “watoto” (children) at the nearly 20 small children that we walked past who screamed “wazungu” (white people) at us.  (Our other favorite thing to do when kids yell “wazungu” is to yell back “Wapi?” (where?) and look all around us. They usually don’t get it.) Our next stop was one of the places on our regular walking route that I have come to dislike the most, the corner where many men from the neighborhood hang out waiting for unsuspecting wazungus like us to walk by so they can start long and involved conversations with us in Swahili while watching us sweat.

Today’s contestant was fishermen who smelled like he had been drinking and who was very insistent on carrying on a conversation directed mostly at Caitlin alone. For about 10 minutes, which felt like ten hours, this fisherman talked to her in broken English and Swahili about learning Swahili, about America, Obama (the usual), her preschool job in Mwanza and about how poor people in Tanzania are.  At least Caitlin was pretty sure that is what he was talking about. She was pretty proud of herself for getting a few appropriate Swahili phrases in, but the one she probably said the most was the one he was not going to listen to” Sasa, tunarudi shuleni” (Now we are going to return to school). The man just kept on talking and we thought we were never going to get away, but then when he turned to grab something (God only knows what), we saw a familiar face, our teacher Joakim who we immediately ran to. Joakim must have known that the man had every intention of talking to us for the next couple of hours so he immediately told the man that we were going to his house and began walking us there. On our very short walk to his home, Joakim explained to us that he knew that man was very bright and had studied in Dar Es Salaam but in his words, had been “corrupted by alcohol.”

We were very greatful to Joakim for saving us and taking us to his home. There we met his wife, sister in law and two young children. As he knew that we had to be returning to school for dinner, after a very short visit with his family, Joakim walked with us a bit to show us an alternative route back to the school so that we wouldn’t have to walk past our new friend the fisherman again. While Joakim was walking with us, we walked up to a man lying on his side by the path. Immediately Caitlin’s heart jumped into her throat as she thought the man might be dead, but Jaokim quickly assuaged her fears by turning the man over, and then smacking him several times on the legs until he moaned and waved him away. Then as if it were just a normal thing Joakim looked at us and said “Drinking is a very bad problem with the fisherman. Maybe he didn’t eat today. I will come back and bring him water so he doesn’t die.” It was a very sad scene to witness, but it was very refreshing to hear Joakim without hesitation take responsibility for his fellow man.

After leaving Joakim we walked into a large field where about 10 boys were playing soccer. The boys immediately stopped what they were doing and started shouting, as you can probably guess by now, “WAZUNGU!!!” We responded with our usual and kept on walking but then amidst the random shouting in Swahili we heard one of the boys yell “Dawdi” the name everyone calls David in Tanzania. A boy ran from the crowd towards us and David immediately recognized him as Jerry the kid who had slid under the language school fence the other day to come play tennis with him.  David talked to Jerry for a second and then all of the boys ran over to talk with us too. We talked with the boys for a few minutes and juggled the ball with them a bit until we decided that it truly was time to “rudi shuleni” if we were going to make it back on time. The boys who all seemed very entertained to see a girl juggle a soccer ball told us to come again and we really hope to do so.

The rest of our walk was pretty uneventful. We saw some cows. Caitlin got called out by an old lady for not Shikamoo-ing her and we made it back just in time for dinner.