Maasai

Maasai! I love the Maasai…somehow I feel incredibly safe with the Maasai Warriors (security guards) manning the gate. One day I was up and out the door early without Mesha and as I approached the gate to leave all 5 or 6 of our Maasai were out there. “Asubuhi” (Good morning) I said, and as a chorus they replied “Salama” (safe – good). Something about that made me feel good. I always think that if you wanted to know anything about anyone at this hotel you need only ask the Maasai because they see everything and don’t do much talking. They know who goes in and out, when they go and with whom!
It’s also nice to have them around because they’ll do anything for you. We send them to do all sorts of things…mostly to go buy things that we don’t want to make the trip for like buying mobile credit vouchers, water we forgot to buy on the way home, sending mail to the post office, pick up some chicken for dinner, etc. I guess it sounds awful like we abuse their service but its part of their job to basically just do stuff. Of course when I say “we” I mean the hotel staff sends them to do all of this. The most I’ve done is made one of them come help Mesha kill a bug. Hahaha.
What’s really cool about the Maasai is that they are so deeply rooted in their tradition. It is incredible that as a community they have managed to keep their culture so intact. Of course this is a double-edged sword…where tradition encourages them to increase their head of cattle, modern economics demands they sell cattle before the drought. And drought is a serious issue these days, the rains come late more frequently and people go without food. I am always in awe that anyone in today’s society ever goes hungry.
We spent some time visiting the villages of Lepruko and Mti Mmoja in the Sepeko Ward. When we dropped in on Mti Mmoja it just so happened that the leaders had scheduled a meeting to being shortly and so they were able to convene early to hear our proposal for new partnerships. I think we all sensed the good fortune of the situation and took it as a sign that this was a positive development.
I struggle with the idea of so-called development in the Maasai community. It seems obvious that everyone should be educated and have the basic human rights including gender equality. This becomes tricky though when you’re dealing with such a unique group of people. So much of what is inherent to being Maasai depends on traditions that are so counter to the ‘developed world.’ Without a doubt I am against genital mutilation and for women’s rights but where do we draw the line? At what point does rights reform overtake cultural integrity?
Then I look at Mesha who is extremely unique as an educated female Maasai. She has ‘enlightened’ ideas about women’s rights and education but to be honest even she acknowledges she is treated differently when she goes home to her village. So can you be educated and still be Maasai in the truest sense? Mesha will not likely marry Maasai and she doesn’t wear all the special clothing and beads except when she goes home. Although she loves her ugali, smoked beef and milk!
But it makes me wonder if the Maasai culture will fade with development. Even as youth are moving into the city for employment, especially young men, they are missing some culturally essential skills, like how to do Maasai style hair. Maasai style is very tiny twisting or braiding of the hair. The men traditionally do the women’s hair for them in this way.
Regardless, it has been really cool to visit some of the villages. I bought about $65 worth of Maasai jewelry from a group of orphaned women…most of it can’t seriously be worn in Canada or anywhere really, but it is a nice cultural token. Of course in a moment of silly exhaustion I got dressed up completely like a Maasai and did a Maasai dance for Mesha…I think she cried a little from laughter.

Victory and Defeat

What a complex day…I am exhausted yet I feel like I should get it all down; especially since I just had a great victory. Let us begin with the win because there was also defeat…
This evening Mesha and I were taken to dine at an excellent Indian restaurant with a man we recently met. To accurately explain my victory I am afraid I must be politically incorrect. One way or another, the discussion landed on the recognition of women’s work. The man views women’s work as a given that does not need to be recognized or appreciated although he knows that the house could not run without her. Holding this view was his first mistake, expressing it was his second. One of the difficult yet beautiful things about Tanzanians is that they are very frank. They frequently say precisely what they are thinking without any hesitation. Thus Mesha was quick to counter his views. To make a long story short, the win was our ability to utterly silence a man who openly holds patriarchal and sexist views of women. It really struck me how valuable a woman’s education is to her ability to defend herself. Without a doubt it is due to my education that I could discuss the essential importance of considerating women’s work in policy making and the efficiency of a man’s world.
Unfortunately I also experienced some defeat today. Mesha and I are desperately trying to make headway on the database. I think I already mentioned that the district ministers are all in meetings this week and so coordinating interviews has been difficult. While meeting with an officer today, however, we discovered the letter of introduction had not been properly disseminated to all ministers. Introductions are essential in the government sector. If you don’t ask questions with legitimate authority and clearance there are people who get very angry. Rightfully so I guess but we DID take proper precautions by insuring letters were to be sent to the right people. Unfortunately we didn’t double check far enough down the line of command and the final dissemination of the letter did not occur. I was rather frustrated but it's important to roll with the punches as they say. Anyway, the ministers had not received the letter and so we had to do some running around to correct the miscommunication. By Friday everyone should have the letter and we have two appointments so it should be clear sailing from there. HOWEVER…it has been two weeks and we are barely taking a chunk out of the work that needs to be done.

In funny news, an old drunk Maasai man on the daladala asked me to “just come” with him so I could join his harem of two wives. Umm…he mostly used hand actions to explain this so it was pretty hilarious and awkward…

In exciting news, I randomly met Forrest, the man who facilitated my trip to Bukoba, Tanzania, three years ago. I was just sitting in the foyer of the hotel and suddenly he was there before me, walking through the same foyer. “Forrest?!” I said. It was totally bizarre, then we sat for chai upstairs and I finally got to meet his wife and their adorable little baby.

Language, Mango Mama and Assimilation

As Canadians we tend to think of ourselves as privileged and fortunate. Although this is true in a very broad sense I fear I must say I feel terribly disadvantaged. I speak English, make a hack job of French and dabble in Spanish and Swahili. It’s sad and perhaps this is my fault for not taking greater initiative. Yesterday I was hanging out with some friends who speak 6 languages – fluently. On the other side of the world it is a given that you speak multiple languages. I think the fact that we are born into English and seem to think it is the only language truly necessary in the world is unfortunate and rather embarrassing. I wish the brain pathways to learn languages easily were created in me at young age but I am not so lucky. I must try harder to master other languages.
We have met a mama who I have dubbed “Mango Mama” because she convinced us to buy her mangos one day by saying that if we buy her mangos the watoto (children) will be able to eat. How can you refuse that? Okay so we bought two mangos and they were delicious! We have run into her twice around town since then and continue to say, “hey, Mango Mama” and then we buy two more mangos.
In other news…I am assimilating. For better or worse this happens to me quite easily. Yesterday I was talking with an English couple, informing them of my friends’ biogas company and said the following, “the company is also run by a mzungu.”At that everyone burst out laughing, as I had said it as if I were not a mzungu myself! The Tanzanian mama clapped my hand and said “good job!”
In another instance I have caused a good laugh when sounding, “ah ah!” in the car to stop someone from going past the driveway. This “ah ah!” was in place of saying something to the effect of “no, this is the drive right here.”

I have finally arrived in Arusha and I am SO excited and happy to be here. I don't know what it is about mountains and green landscapes that makes me feel at home. (I think Maurice is vehemently agreeing with me right now.) I could live here. It is cool in the evenings and I can even wear a light sweater.
The 9 hour bus ride wasn't as bad as I thought it would be even though air conditioning didn't work and the window on my side wouldn't open! Oh I am just so happy, this is exactly what I needed. To get away from the big, hot city and into the Tanzania I know.
I am currently sitting at the Outpost Lodge with my friend Mesha, enjoying the cool air and each others' company...and the free wireless internet I'm able to pick up! Oh yes, some of you may have seen my complaints on facebook about trying to download itunes ...just started the download again and only 54 minutes to go...cheers to music through the computer speakers!
I'm also surrounded by a lot of mzungus right now...that's something new.
Mesha is in stitches beside me because I'm telling her funny things to do in Swahili. I love it when she laughs! I'm also planning to set her up with my friend Charles who lives in Mwanza right now. Yep I'm even doing a little match making in Tanzania!
Anyway, I feel like I'm just babbling. I'm a bit to tired to be eloquent and provide you with the echoing depths of my thoughts....
Goodnight...or shall I say good afternoon.
OR what I've always wanted to say, "top of the day!" (like that scene in Mary Poppins)

I think, if they let me, I could forget I'm white.

confronted by violence

 A huge nasty mende (cockroach) crawled in my suitcase (because I haven’t been zipping it shut – because there hasn’t been a single bloody creepy crawler in my room) so I dragged it out of the closet and removed every piece of clothing, turned it over and banged on it and no mende. So where is it? Now I’m supposed to fall asleep.

The truth is I’m not that phased by it but they’re just so gross and pointless. As a result, however, I had the most hilarious phone conversation with my friend Charles, which ended in his conspiracy theory about people listening in on mobile conversations... until my minutes ran out. Now I’m exhausted but I had all these brilliant things I wanted to write. Maybe I can hash some of them out.

So I went to see Inglorious Bastards tonight. Of course it was brilliant in its assaulting, brutish Tarantino style. Actually I think it forces you to confront yourself in a startling way. I will pause here to tell anyone who has yet to see the film to stop reading because I will not hesitate to reveal the plot.

It seems nearly instinctive to hate the Nazi regime, which is not that distinguishable from hating Nazis. Given the horrific genocide enacted by the Nazis I would venture to say popular opinion allows such hatred. Tarantino, however, confronts us with our desires for revenge, violence and murder. Somehow a Nazi being brutally killed is justified and even satisfying in our minds because we identify them as villainous. Okay, but by the end of the film Tarintino effectively transforms us into Nazis through the parallel of watching violence and brutality on film. The Nazis watch a film about hundreds being killed and derive pleasure from it. It’s disgusting; revolting. But our revenge on them is to do same thing. We sit and watch a film about brutally killing as many Nazis as possible and want to cheer when the cinema burns down with them all inside. Is there a difference just because they did evil things? Can we say they deserved it? You might say violence begets violence but who decides how and when?

I find this particularly interesting in light of having just read The Reader by Bernhard Schlink. Perhaps some of you have read it or seen the recent movie. I felt an odd and inappropriate sympathy for Hanna even though she was a Nazi guard and I knew her crimes. Certainly there is much to be said for presentation and where The Reader is meant to startle you with sympathetic feelings for a Nazi; Inglorious Bastards is meant to startle you with the violence of your hatred for Nazis. At least this is my initial interpretation the film and novel...feel free to agree, disagree or elaborate further!

This Is It

Monday was a bad day. Everything seemed to be going wrong...I was frustrated by plans for Arusha, very few questionnaires had been returned (still the case!), by 2:30pm I realized I had nothing left to do for the day and it was too late to start a trek to the city centre, my ipod started to malfunction and to top things off I had a mini anxiety attack when I realized my mosquito net had been changed and was now a smaller one which was crouching in on my space to sleep (I'm somewhat claustrophobic). So it was a bad day but things have picked up since. My ipod is back to normal working order and things are smoothing themselves out. Also I hung out with my friend Langa last night and we went to see This Is It.

Incredible!

I do recommend seeing the movie. That tour would have been spectacular to see and I feel like I got to know MJ a little. I think I would have liked to meet and chat with him just to hear what ran through his mind. I think that if people listened to Michael as much as they love him the world really would change. It's surprising how many positive messages he actually put out in his music and how many different issues he touched on.

Anyway, I've been inspired by him and I think it will motivate me to make some changes in my own life so thanks MJ!