those weren't lentils, they were beans...

gosh.  it's approaching two in the morning but i can't tear myself away from the computer as it's the first time in weeks that my internet stick is shining "blue" meaning "fast" connection.  i'm jubilant at notion that i've just  completed my list of online "to do's" in a single sitting, a task which until this evening was stagnated by my standard measurement of time: one page loading per five minutes of thumb twiddling.  my patience is both being tested and built!

with one month out of eight under my belt, i can hardly wait to begin digging into project development in kwakiliga.  i've adapted quickly to the environment (thanks dad, for  preparing me with our somewhat torturous and extended camping trips) as well as our daily routines: get buckets of water from the spiggot at the center of town.  get laughed at by women and children capable of carrying said buckets on their head rather gracefully while i lug mine off balance.   prepare three meals a day on a kerosene stove and identify where raw ingredients (if any) can be purchased.  practice Swahili both in the comfort of my unfurnished home and by initiating conversations with community members who are patient enough not to laugh when I say something as eloquent as "you.  maize.  good?"

the village itself is poor in income but rich in culture.  it is Tanzanian custom to welcome people ... to the country, to the town, to the store ... I can hardly walk a few feet without someone saying "karibou nyumbani" meaning you're welcome to our house.  the danger is depending upon the hour of the day, you may well be convinced to stay for dinner and served a seemingly large portion of food, which is actually the amount consumed by their entire family.  hunger is very present.  there is one particularly innovative farmer in the village named Mzee Mcharo, our "baba" or father, who seems to be able to provide for himself and others who are less fortunate through innovative and diversified farming.  some of my favorite mornings have been spent with his family under the shade tree on their property.  their youngest daughter Magdalena was shy at first and i wondered if teaching her tic tac toe might set her at ease ... so, grabbing a stick, i drew a game in the dirt and made her observe as my partner Sarah and i played.  not only did she understand AND get excited, but she taught us a Tanzanian version that is FAR superior and will certainly be coming home with me.  

this past week also marked the end of Ramadan and, as the majority of our village is Muslim i have been woken most mornings at 5:00 a,m. by young boys from the community rising people for prayer.  but on the sikuku (meaning holiday) i awoke at 12:30 a.m. to drums and singing right outside my window ... the enthusiasm of which permeated even the following day's activities.  it's like Muslim Christmas!  everyone gets new clothes, eats an absurd bounty of food (i had four carb loaded meals before the afternoon), and celebrate together with song, dance, and a heated shirts vs skins soccer match.  we felt fortunate to be so welcomed to a celebration quite different from the previous weekend's three hour church service (like i said, building patience) and are feeling more integrated into the community daily ... though i've hardly forgotten the community i've forged at home and hope that any readers will send letters my way:

PO Box 506

Korogwe, Tanga

Tanzania

East Africa