waka waka ayyy ayyy

so less than 1 hour until the world cup final! I'm seriously rooting for Holland and their orange tulip & windmill-powered nation. I have a vague dislike for Spain, perhaps only because my friend described David Villa as looking like a skeeze ball. We'll see how the match turns out!

Walking around town there are a number of people who hum either the Shakira Waka Waka theme or the K'Naan Wavin' Flag theme, and the club I went to last night played each of those songs at least twice while I was there. Everyone at the club who had a vuvuzela appropriately took it out and gave it a blow. Whenever a game is on, the Old Town section of Mombasa sounds like it has been or is about to be taken by a large swarm of bees. bzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

We went to an outdoor screening of the US-Ghana match and were four of the total 7 US supporters in a crowd of over 100 people. It wasn't uncomfortable to be there, on the contrary, it was exciting to see the excitement for any good shot, save, corner kick, and goal that the Ghana team had.

I'm off to go watch the match with a number of the Yale students. I'll be in Nairobi & Mt. Kenya area for the next week and a half, so will try to post right after I get back. In a nutshell, everything here in Mombasa is going well. My phone was stolen from our house while I went up to the roof to hang out my laundry, but other than that no big issues.

Hope all is well!

:( leaving Zbar

Mambo vipi? (Swahili equivalent of "what's up?")

These past few weeks since getting back from the US have been SOOOO busy! Lots of loose ends to tie up for our research project, world cup fever has started and we've only made a modest dent in packing up the house. We're leaving Tuesday to move to Mombasa, Kenya and will be there until early August. I'm going there to be the teaching assistant for the Yale summer session course on East African History. I'm looking forward to living in Mombasa again now that I'm used to the particulars of life in this part of the world and with my Swahili being much better than it was 1 year ago. I am quite sad to leave Zanzibar, though. While transitioning to Mombasa last year seemed like we had to do-without a number of things that are easily available in the US, compared to Zanzibar, Mombasa is a step up. For one thing, there is a movie theatre there, and a 24-hour grocery store. Hooray for urban development.

I am sad to leave Zbar because I'm comfortable here, I know where to go to get things, and I am a huge fan of the "Azam men" aka the men who ride around on white bicycles fitted with coolers that sell popsicles (the best 18 cents you'll ever spend here) and ice cream. I guess that's one area where Zbar exceeds Mombasa. While I haven't mastered all of the twisting alley ways in Stone Town, I generally know in which direction to point myself when I need to go somewhere. I have my regular people I go to when I buy tomatoes and someone different for avocados and balungi (I think it's pomelo in English). I'll miss our pitch-dark and grungy office entrance and working in my office smelling both the pungent bloody scent from the butchery and the freshly ground spices from the shop next door. I'm not sure I have described our office in this blog yet, but it is right behind the main open-air market where you buy produce, fish, chicken, goats, beef, bread, rice, beans, and small dukas (shops) sell various packaged goods. I usually ride my bike from our house the 6km into town, from a residential area near where the President lives to the comparatively lively and "urban" center of town. I'm slightly an odd sight when I ride my bike because I'm one of 3 people I have ever seen wearing a helmet here, out of the thousands who ride bicycles. A friend of mine joked with a Zanzibari guy who asked why we wore helmets that we wazungu need to wear helmets because we're not protected by Allah and the kofias (embroidered hats that most Muslim men here wear). There my friend was undermining any chance for a public health initiative promoting helmets making people believe their hats and Allah would keep them safe... awesome.

When you can see the conglomeration of dala dalas (pick-up trucks made into public transportation vehicles) on the right, I turn left to the "2-way" road that can't actually fit 2 lanes of traffic that goes behind the market. I usually have to keep my eye out for the large fish, manta rays, or squid that are getting parsed up early in the morning as the fishermen bring them in. Some days I get a light shower on my feet as I ride through the trail of salt water, blood and dirt that drain from their resting place... obviously this isn't by choice, but is unavoidable because there are too many other people standing, walking, talking, riding bicycles or mopeds, or some car trying to get through. Wednesdays are the most challenging because the men who sell wood furniture also set up their goods to be sold along this street, consuming 1/2 of the available territory plus the space for the people who are looking at their goods. The bell on my bike was stolen a few months ago and I haven't yet spent the $1 to get it replaced, partly because the brakes on my bike are so loud and squeaky that they do a better job of warning people I'm coming than my bell ever could.

Once I'm through the foot shower I get to wind my way around to the back side of the market where I have to get off my bike and walk it the last 20 meters to our office entrance. On the way I see the same 10 fruit and vegetable vendors every morning with their produce on their carts or propped up on boxes and crates with their scales nearby. There is one guy who spits out greetings almost faster than I can respond. I've gotten better and instead of being on the defensive to his "mambo vipi? shwari? mzima? habari gani?" I've started launching them at him at the same speed which makes us simultaneously ask and respond to our own greetings, and usually elicits a smile from everyone. Once I catch sight and the scent of the slabs of cow parts held up on huge metal hooks that look like you could catch a whale if you were to use it for fishing (yes, I know whales are not fish, but you get the idea), I turn into a little alley to the backdoor of our office building. On the dusty beige wall at that corner "asali ya pemba ipo" is scrawled in red paint that dripped as it was drying, making it seem quite morbid even though it is a mere announcement that honey from the island of Pemba is sold at the duka around the corner. I unlock the door to our office and hoist my bike up the 1-foot high step and roll the bike toward the staircase. I have to leave the door open while I lock up my bike because the light is not usually on so it's pitch black. Our office is on the 2nd floor and the staircase is one where even I have to duck to make sure I don't hit my head due to the low ceiling clearance. I've seen our office rats scurrying around a few times near this staircase when the light is on and I walk up, so I actually prefer the light to be off when I enter in the mornings so I don't need to acknowledge that the rats are there first thing in the work day. As much as I appreciate them as my welcoming committee, I can do without.

The office has three rooms and a small kitchen that branch off the main entryway. It's a simple place, but from the second room there is a balcony that looks down on the backdoor entrance and the alley there. We have 3-4 Zanzibari women who have been working with us for the past 6 months who come each day and make sure that we all sit down for tea around mid-day for a proper bite to eat. Eating and working at the same time is not admired. With our office so close to the market, we hear the shouts of the men as things are loaded, unloaded, bickered over, celebrated and announced. Every day around 1pm there is a man who comes around selling rat traps & poison who has a loudspeaker with a recording shouting "sumu la paaaaaaanyyyyyaaaaaaaa buku na .....". Many sellers have this same recording, and before I had seen where that voice was coming from, I assumed it was some recording about Allah and religion and the like. Oops. I was wrong. I've never figured out what the last part of the message says but the first part says "poison for rats, bukus, and..." now rats, we all know. Bukus, on the other hand, are more like the rodents of unusually large size as seen in The Princess Bride film. Some are as big as small dogs. They're intimidating and I'm glad I haven't had too many encounters with them. I've contemplated making that recording my ringtone. It'd be unique, that's for sure.

After finishing work for the day I ride my bike home past the soccer fields where numerous pick-up or semi-organized teams are playing. All of them are male. Most afternoons there are two basketball courts occupied also by males. I've once seen a female handball game but the teams were both from Dar es Salaam, or "the mainland," a place blamed for any moral decline in Zanzibar due to the fact that a smaller proportion of the mainland Tanzanian population is Muslim. It's a funny relationship Zanzibar holds with the mainland. Zbar thinks quite highly of itself and believes it would prosper more if it weren't a part of Tanzania, even though that's not likely true.

There is one big hill that I have to ride up on my way home that is somewhat of a challenge. It's fun to push past other bicyclists who have abandoned ship and are walking their bikes up the hills as I'm in a (long-ish) skirt. Most bicyclists here are male, although there are a sprinkling of females. Once past that hill it's easy to cruise the rest of the way home and in the afternoons I sometimes get into leap-frogging with the 12-year old boys who are also on the road. It is one of the few times where I get to have G-rated trash talk, our exchanges consisting of something like "ehhh! mzungu!" "ongeza zaidi (go faster)" "unenda wapi? (where are you going?)" "nenda nenda! (go go!)" "huwezi (you can't!)". It's mildly satisfying and ensures that I have a negative split for coming home compared to my time going into town in the mornings. I turn off the main road onto a smaller 2-way street and then 1km later turn just before the big orange mosque onto our bumpy dirt road. I'm a pro at avoiding the potholes below and tree/shrub branches from above. Through the tall metal gate and I'm home.

So, there's a synopsis of a day in my life. Ultimately, the buildings, people, and things I see each day are just ordinary and non-remarkable for most people here. It's just how things are. It's not exotic, it's not striking, it's just the way it is.

A view from our office balcony

We went to the sandbank with our research ladies this past week, which was the first time they had ever gone in their lives. I think I've been there nearly a dozen times this past year. None of them know how to swim so we gave them quick tutorials and life jackets. It's a good thing it's so easy to float in the ocean because the salt content is quite high! It was fun to see how they were able to relax and not worry that they weren't dressed in their normal buibui (long sleeved & full-length black dress with head scarf) while they were swimming. In contrast to the everyday market scene that is common for Zanzibaris, going to the sandbank is not something that is ordinary. It's much more of a touristy thing to do, mostly because it costs 30,000/= (~$24) to go, an amount that is not likely to be spent on a beach trip by average Zanzibaris. Talking with them about the trip to the sandbank made me more aware of how people can exist in the same setting but have quite different versions of life. To me, Zanzibar is linked with the beautiful beaches and a desire to take advantage of them while for our research ladies the beaches don't hold much appeal for sunbathing, swimming, or otherwise.

L-R: Rukaya, Fetty, Solomon, Alison, Tuma, Umi in the boat on the way to the sandbank. Fetty didn't want her pic taken because her headscarf wasn't on properly. Sorry, Fetty.

Ok, I'm off to go pack! yikes. so much stuff to put into suitcases. The move to Mombasa involves the following:

-schlepping the 25+suitcases (estimation, given that we had 23 last year and have more stuff now) to the ferry port in Zbar, loading those bags onto the ferry (part 1 of my 2 least favorite parts due to the hectic nature of the port and having to ward off people taking your stuff w/o you asking them to help you).

-2 1/2 hr ferry ride to Dar... then part 2 of my least favorite bit, unloading the luggage and keeping track of the kids.

-sleep in Dar, leave the packed safari van in the car lot and hope nothing gets stolen, leave Dar at 4am to beat the traffic and get to Mombasa in time to watch the US-Algeria game... the drive could take anywhere from 8 to 12+ hours. We'll see how many times we get stopped by the cops. A good 1-2 hours of the drive is on a bumpy and dusty dirt road, so we'll arrive in Mombasa with a nice coating of reddish-brown Tanzanian soil.

-unload everything in our flat in Mombasa. It's right near Fort Jesus, a Portuguese-built monstrosity right on the ocean. I think the flat is about 1/3 the size of our current house. Hopefully it's slightly larger than last year's apartment, but I guess I'll find out when I get there.

wish us luck! I'll try to write again once we're in Mombasa.

Zanzibar in NYC? Yes indeed. I plan to go here after landing in NYC in August, although I'm sure it won't have the same feel that the true Zbar does :-)

also: in other news, we've been playing a few rounds of Yahtzee here and there at home during the night and I had been having trouble with getting a full house, so naturally, I practiced. I haven't missed getting a full house since. How's that for defying the odds and logic?

And, there will be another Maine kiddo in Lille next year in my same program, and she has worked in Nairobi and has been to Zbar, too! What are the chances of the Maine-Lille-East Africa combo? I'm excited.

HAPPY FATHER'S DAY. Love ya Daddy-o. Hope the weather's nice so you can go for a long motorcycle ride :-)

WiFi! and A/C! and Toilets! Oh my

Blog 5.31.10

Yahoo- this is my second blog in one month, which hasn’t happened since December. I’m currently on the bus from Portland, ME headed toward Boston and it’s exciting that they have WiFi on board (“Concord Coach 923 Left Side”—seriously? Does it matter if I’m on the left or right side of the bus?!). It’s a far cry from the buses I’ve been on in Kenya, Tanzania, and Uganda… for one thing it has A/C, a video playing, and a toilet. Other differences include the absence of any livestock, people standing in the aisles, or peoples’ babies on laps other than their parent/guardian. I will say I appreciate my leg-room and the availability of the loo, but there is some charm in the long-distance bus traveling in Africa. I’m looking forward to going back to Zanzibar for a few weeks, then to Kenya until early August. The move from Zanzibar to Mombasa, Kenya will be a long trip, not in a public bus, but in an avocado-hued safari vehicle that will have 7 people and the year’s worth of stuff.

Before I left Zanzibar, I felt hesitant to come back to the US and was slightly mad at myself for taking 2 weeks for the visit, given that I’ll only have about 3 weeks there once I get back before moving to Kenya. I was also nervous that I would feel uncomfortable and guilty about being back in the US due to some of the discrepancies between the two places, and the general level of excess that is the norm in the US. I felt neither mad nor personally guilty when I landed in the US, however. There were some ways in which I felt uncomfortable and out of place, such as the grocery store, but ultimately it felt so nice to be back in the place where I grew up and have spent the majority of my life.

So, why the discomfort at the grocery store? There are so many choices for everything from bread to crackers to types of yogurt. It is impeccably sterile compared to the open-air and refrigeration-free market where I get my food in Zanzibar, cleaving my food from most traces of its source. Also, you can go through the store without having to have a conversation with anyone (unless you’re buying fresh fish or something from behind the deli counter) due to self-checkout aisles. [by the way, my little sister pressed the “Español” option before I started scanning my items and everything was fine until it was time to scan my wasabi-coated peas from the bulk foods section, which required punching in the PLU number and putting them on the scale. I didn’t know the PLU and didn’t know the Spanish word for wasabi-coated peas (no, it wasn’t listed under “W” for wasabi). So, Annie walked/hopped with her broken ankle boot back to the bulk foods section to find the PLU number and then call me on my cell phone. In the meantime, I had even tried to enter the peas as plain pistachios but it didn’t work. How the machine knew the difference I don’t know]. Another thing is that you don’t have to bargain for anything, the price is dictated by the barcode. Overall, there is just so much stuff there that I haven’t seen, tasted, or thought about in a year that it makes me slightly uneasy.

It was incredibly pleasant to see my family, friends, neighbors, and both the Yale campus and Belfast, ME as a whole. I went to Yale during the class of 2010’s graduation weekend and had a lovely time. I ran up East Rock and quickly realized how I’m not in as good physical shape for running hills as I was at this time last year due to the lack of hills around where I live in Zbar. But, the experience of running on trails in the woods instead of on pavement was refreshing and much welcomed by my knees. I saw some dear friends and admired the castle-like gothic architecture that characterizes the campus. I also went on a boat tour of the Thimble Islands with a mentor and friend of mine that was really nice. It was such a different coastline than what I’ve been seeing for the past year with the classically New England-style houses/mansions.

The day before I arrived at Yale I was in Boston with Nora and went for a run in the morning. While it wasn’t cold by normal standards, my lungs felt as they did when I did the polar bear dip in Maine (jump into the ocean on January 1^st): like they were the size of marbles. It was so hard to breathe! I was winded very quickly, and instead of switching sides of the road to run in the shade as I do in Zanzibar, I opted for the sunny side of the streets to help warm me up a bit and reduce the goosebumps my skin was showing. It was funny to me to see dogs on leashes and people with all sorts of different hair colors and styles, and of course, the short shorts and tank tops. Dogs are only used for security purposes in Zanzibar, they are most certainly not loved pets as they are in the US. Because almost all women cover their hair, it was striking to me to see all the variations when I first got back, and with the short shorts I must say I just find myself thinking “really? why?” I know I wore them at some point in my middle or high school years, but they just seem extreme to me now. It’s all a matter of what you’re accustomed to.

I’m almost out of battery power so need to wrap this up. I’m glad that I came home and had a visit with my family and friends, whether it was a motorcycle ride with my dad, an impromptu walk on the beach with a good friend from high school, a drink at Rollie’s in downtown Belfast, or spending the weekend with my sisters, niece, brother in law and close friends from both Yale and Belfast. I ate some great food, went on some nice bike rides and runs (including running the hill by the Belfast harbor that I used to run for soccer training… preseason memories!), had engaging conversations, and felt lucky to have spent the past year in Eastern Africa but to be able to call the US “home.” If I’ve ever had a tangible amount of pride in being American, I’ve felt it these past few weeks. Sounds cheesy, but it’s true (except for the situation with the gulf oil spill). Off I go back to Zanzibar and then Kenya until early August. I’ll try to keep updating the blog with any happenings in my part of the world.

Hope you’re all doing well :-)

highlights from the past month and a half

two pictures to start things off with:

this is a sunset Nora and I saw one evening. I told her how the dhows (sailboats) usually sail across the horizon at sunset to make nice pictures for the tourists, but she didn't believe me. At least the birds got the memo that I had brought my camera.

A gas station that had no gas. Nora and my friend Allison are standing there, wondering how we're going to make it to Matemwe to go snorkeling at Mnemba if we're on empty. Luckily, I was able to get a 5L jerry can of gasoline with the help of the snoozing gas station worker a little ways down the road from some guy who happened to have some. I'm not sure why anyone bothered coming to work if there hadn't been gas at the station for a week, but I guess that wasn't his fault-- he gets paid by the hour, not by how many litres he sells!

Happy Mother's Day!!

I only have a few more weeks here in Zanzibar (until the 3rd week of June, with 2 weeks in the US starting May 19th), and have been thinking more and more about how this past year has gone. On the blog front, I haven't kept it up as much as I anticipated. While I suppose it could be viewed as a sign of neglect on my part, I think it's more just a lack of opportunity and is indicative of the amount of time I actually spend on the internet here. It's not the same access as I had in college where I'd check my email in the morning when I woke up, between most classes, before track practice, after dinner, as a study break, and before bed. Here, it's more like 2-3 times a week on average, less for those 3 months when the electricity was out.

So, instead of telling about weekly happenings I find myself trying to recap 1 or 2 months worth of adventures. What have I done since March when I last wrote?

-late March/early April: Nora came to visit!!! We went around Zanzibar, swam with sea turtles (after getting stopped by many many cops and told that I'd have to go to court and pay a big fine over a registration discrepancy), snorkeled at Mnemba Island, went for sunset swims, and shopped around Stone Town, then went to the TZ mainland for a safari at Mikumi National Park. Nora got her first experience on a long-distance bus in Africa, complete with us holding someone else's baby for part of the ride and having a live chicken on board (what other way is there to travel?). I'm so glad she came. Thanks Nupa!

- mid April: LOTS OF WORK on the research project, transcribing and translating the focus group discussions, revising the interview guides for the one-on-one interviews we'll do, getting permission to do interviews at the hospital, getting our interview room at the public hospital set up... many many little things that end up taking a lot of time. I feel like our team has a good dynamic between working on the various projects we have.

-Was a co-quiz master with Dodie and friend Hilda for the monthly Quiz Nite that attracts a mix of Zanzibari and ex-pats. It was very fun and the people seemed to enjoy our cleverness. We had 4 rounds of about 10 questions, with the answers to the questions pointing toward a "meta" answer. For example, if you had the clues "46664, Madiba, Robin, Winnie, ANC, 1918, Nobel Peace Prize" the meta answer would be Nelson Mandela (46664 was his prison #, Madiba his nickname, Robin referencing the island where he spend 27 years in prison, Winnie referencing his wife, ANC his political party, 1918 the year he was born, and he won the Nobel Peace Prize). For this round, one of the questions that didn't make it was "what is the square root of 729?" (answer: 27) I was told it was too hard and people wouldn't get the answer. Really? I'm not so sure it was too hard, but I got the veto anyway. In making the quiz, we all had to realize how relative "general knowledge" can be depending on a person's age, nationality and profession. Most of the quizzes I have attended this year have a fair amount of commonwealth-country related questions, whether it's on history, geography, or those sports that we just don't play in the US (cricket, handball, etc.) Luckily my team has always had at least one commonwealth member, so we've been ok :-)

-I've finished season 3 of The Wire, the only TV-esque thing I have here. I'm looking forward to seasons 4 & 5!

I think those are the highlights.

I will be in the US from May 19th until June 2nd, then will come back to Zanzibar for a few weeks. Then, I'm heading north to Mombasa, Kenya to help teach the Yale Summer Session course there on east African history. I'm greatly looking forward to having a concentrated intellectual engagement with this area after having my own experiences this past year. I'll be in Mombasa until the beginning of August, then will be home until mid-September. Then, it's off to Lille, France for the year to teach English there! I'm excited to go there and try out life on my own with all of those "adult" things like finding an apartment and bank, grocery shopping, having a strictly scheduled job, etc. I'm also sad to leave here, though I suppose it's good to leave with the feeling that I want to come back so I'll have that as an option. Lille's weather is supposed to be similar to London's (ughhhh rain and clouds) so I will surely surely miss these beautiful tropical days, but growing up in Maine should have prepared me to deal with whatever conditions the clouds spit at me.

I'm off to help make dinner and munch on a few Hint of Lime tortilla chips that Alison brought back from the US. These coveted "green dot" chips access a flavor spectrum we just do not have here. They're incredible. I will most definitely be bringing them back with me when I fly back over here in June after my 2 weeks in the US. For sure.

I hope to see many of you in the second-half of May. Let me know if you'll be in the Maine/Boston/NYC area any time between May 19th and June 2nd! I fly into Boston the 19th, then out of NYC the 2nd of June.

umeme- umerudi!!! (electricity has returned)

ELECTRICITY IS BACK!!!!! After 88 days, or 12 weeks and 4 days (nearly an entire college semester), the electricity has returned. How nice of it. It’s pretty incredible there wasn’t one public protest or rally from the Zanzibaris. Apparently, the president didn’t want to declare it an “emergency” because that would have made him look weak (and elections are coming up in the fall), yet, many foreign governments and NGOs have money that could have been used to speed the repair process along had the e-word been invoked. Because the big man isn’t on the best of terms with his fellow politicians on the TZ mainland, no one came rushing to his aid. So, there is where the 88 days comes from. Word is the cable running from the mainland to Zbar will be fixed in 2012. We’ll see if that comes to pass. We still have some power cuts, and each time I mentally prepare myself for another 12+ weeks w/o electricity. Luckily, the cuts have been short-lasted.

The rainy season is starting and man does it p.o.u.r. here. One of our research assistants thought the expression “it’s raining cats and dogs” was quite hilarious. I suppose so, and for her it must have been frightening as cats are mostly of the incredibly mangy variety here, and dogs are only used as guard dogs… they are not loved pets; it goes with their religious beliefs that dogs are dirty animals. It's not the same kittens and puppy dogs I imagined when I was young and heard that phrase.

Anyway, Nora will be arriving here next Sunday! I’m hoping she’ll get to see some sunshine and the days with 14hrs of rain won’t coincide with her vacation. If they do, though, I suppose we’ll have a lovely time puddle hopping together like we did when we were in elementary school.

I’ve been quite busy with our research project lately. We have completed twelve focus group discussions in Unguja (the island where I live) and Pemba (the smaller and less-developed island to the north). We did eight groups in Pemba (which had electricity) before the electricity came back on in Unguja. Those 12 weeks were likely the first time in the past 40 years when Pemba has been better off than Unguja. It felt luxurious to have the breeze of a ceiling fan, and to be able to use a computer without the noise of a generator. Such a deal! However, the water tank dried up two days before we left so that put a cramp in things. Pemba on the whole has a slower pace of life. There is no evidence of the typical tourist shops that have taken hold in Stone Town, very few wazungu, and (at least where I was) less people concentrated in one area.You can’t buy butter, yogurt, or ground beef. Pringles, Coca-Cola, and a bunch of packaged foods imported from Oman and the UAE are available. Pemba is much more agriculturally-based than Unguja. It used to be the bread basket of Mombasa, Kenya. It has many more hills and overall variety to its landscape, where Unguja is mostly flat. At night, there are many people lining the one main street selling food by kerosene lamps-- breads, chapattis, grilled octopus & squid, maandazi (like a donut, but with a slight coconut flavor), tea and coffee. While I don’t usually wear a head covering or scarf here in Unguja, it felt uncomfortable to be without in Pemba. All the shops there close for each of the 5 calls to prayer each day, something that doesn’t happen here in Stone Town, except occasionally on Fridays. You can see a picture of the street during one such call to prayer- it is empty except for a few children playing.

We did four groups (older women & men, younger women & men) in each of the two sites, one near the large town of Chakechake, and one in the northern part of the island. I felt exhausted at the end of the day, after hearing almost exclusively Swahili for the entire time. It’s great practice, but it’s a lot of mental energy! In each location, we were received warmly and the participants had good contributions to the discussions. It was nice to see how we as a research team are improving our discussion facilitation skills and to actually put our training and preparation into action.

We have three more groups planned for this coming week, which will be conducted near Stone Town. I’m curious to see if the responses will differ noticeably given the urban environment. I’ll keep you posted. We’ll also start our in-depth interviews with health care providers, key informants, and women who have had a pregnancy interruption at the end of this month and in April. It will be nice to have a one-on-one conversation them more pointed questions that we don’t ask in our focus groups.

I’ve been working on job applications for next year and have a few phone interviews coming up in the next weeks. At the moment, I could end up in Boston, Newark, Rwanda, France, the Caribbean, or stay here. When I narrow it down, I’ll let you know!

I was recently doing a cross-word puzzle that my Mom had sent me (thanks!) and was becoming more certain that the editor had made a mistake, because I knew, with absolute certainty, two clues that built off each other. I finally realized that I had spelled “practice” the British way (practise). Thank you to the long-lasting influences of colonialism. I feel slightly bad for the kiddos in school here because all those words like color, favorite, center, or program, they’re all considered “correct” if they spell them the British way. I think that’s rubbish, hogwash, or bloody mad… but maybe that’s just me. Right then.

My favorite week where we didn’t have electricity was Feb 11-16^th. Why? Because it was the Sauti za Busara music festival in Stone Town! Sauti za Busara means “sounds of wisdom” in Swahili. It was such a nice change from the typical routine here, allowing me to forget that we didn’t have electricity. There was great variety in the musical acts, with some dancers as well. Many artists were from Africa, but there was a Tanzanian-Japanese group and a performer from Norway as well. My favorite hands down was Ba Cissoko, a group from Guinea that features the kora. I seriously didn’t know which instrument was producing the rich sounds I heard. They’re on iTunes (but not all of their albums)—check them out for sure. They had an incredible amount of energy and stage presence, and had everyone standing up dancing. I’m determined to see them live again at some point. There was also a great dance troup from Uganda that made me want to go back there and spend more than the week I spent there in November (see picture of the woman with all the jars on her head- she danced like they weren’t there at all, and had even more than what is in the picture on top of her head by the end of the dance!). The entire festival had an incredibly friendly atmosphere and was just so pleasant. I’m sorry that’s a vague description, but it was simply delightful.

I’ve included some other pictures in this post. I must give credit to Allison, an MPH student here working with us, for the photos.

This is our research team (minus a few members) during a meeting in our office.

This one is of the place where I usually buy my lunch (sesame seed bread) for 250 shillings, or about 20 cents. Note the green and yellow CCM decorations for the political party.

This is an aerial view of Stone Town taken from our plane trip back from Pemba. You can see some of the boats in the port, and allllll those corrugated metal roofs.

This is a view of the fields in Chakechake, Pemba.

That’s all I have for now! Miss you all

candle lit dinners are no longer romantic...

...when you have them every single night because there is still no electricity.

yes, I'm slightly bitter about this situation today. But, my computer is currently charging off of the solar panels that the family bought. I feel so full of green energy. I wonder if I'll start photosynthesizing.

On another note, bed bug bites are incredibly itchy. Holy moly. I have never desired to have sandpaper at my immediate disposal to use on my own skin. I now know the wisdom behind the saying "don't let the bed bugs bite." I feel like I need the same oatmeal bath I had when I was 4 years old and had the chicken pox. I hope they go away soon. The kids in the family still have lice (this is going on 3 months now?) and one of them slept in my bed this weekend while I was away on the east coast. I had a dream that I was in the supermarket searching for lice treatment but had difficulty because there was a disco party in the store and there were so many people, lights, noise and craziness. I just wanted the lice meds so I could prevent the child-to-babysitter transmission, but no dice (just lice). I am sleeping with my head at the foot of the bed and changed the sheets and pillows. Wish me luck. There is a new brand of beetle that inhabits my bathroom. The new arrivals are small, black, and speedy. There are also some new ants that bite that cause me to wake up smacking myself. I didn't know I had rolled out the "welcome" mat to the insect world.

Anyway, work is going well. Very very busy. I have lots to write about from the past few weeks, including my escape to Dar es Salaam last weekend.... the land of electricity. Hope to write soon.

Miss you all!

Blog 1.7.10

Well, what do you know, we’re in the 2^nd decade of the 21^st century. I must admit I did indeed usher in 2010 by being passed out, half-dressed on the cold tile floor where no one could find me. Due to alcohol? No, no. Due to a very hot Zanzibar evening, a set of unrelenting stomach cramps, and being exhausted from climbing Kilimanjaro and the bus ride back from Moshi. I think I went to sleep before 11pm. Why the floor? Well, there has been no electricity here on the island for over 1 month so the fans or AC don’t work and the bed was too darn hot. So naturally, I stripped down and laid on the floor in the narrow space between my bed frame and where my mosquito net touches the ground. I can’t tell you how comfortable it felt to have the coolness of the tiles on my skin compared to a set of bed sheets!!! While I didn’t appreciate whatever business was going on in my GI tract, I couldn’t help but think that it was slightly better than last year’s December 31^st where I was on the couch clutching ice packs to my cheeks because I had gotten my wisdom teeth out that day. Only time will tell how I choose to celebrate 2011. Suggestions are welcome.

Since my last post, many many things have happened!

The three Harringtons arrived in Dar safely, but without any of their luggage. We got back 5 of the 6 suitcases a few days later, with the other one still being MIA. Its last sighting was in Alabama… I have no idea how they possibly confused that with Tanzania. Everyone was disappointed, and unsure how the Swiss watch-makers could have been so un-precise with this matter. I hope they keep track of things better with their secret bank accounts!

We spent the night at the YMCA hotel in Dar, getting there after the reception desk had closed. Never fear, the night watchman stood on a stool and reached through the iron-barred windows to fetch keys to two rooms. High security? Not so much. We left the next morning to get on a bus to Moshi, which was more of an affair than I had anticipated. All the buses I planned to take had been filled up with passengers going to the Moshi/Arusha area for the holidays. I was taken to a smaller bus on a side street and told the tickets were 35,000 shillings—twice what I had paid when I went to Moshi in November when en route to the conference in Kampala. I knew I was being told the “mzungu” price for a ticket, so asked a woman who was already sitting down where she was going and how much she paid. She replied 25,000 shillings, which then earned her a very angry glare and a not-so-nice comment from the guy who was trying to over-charge me for a ticket. I ended up having to pay 30,000 Tsh per ticket, but oh well. The bus ride was supposed to be about 7 hours. It was over 11 hours long. The bus wasn’t licensed to leave the Dar area, and was stopped by the police and given a hefty fine. The vehicle was packed with people, and when we stopped to let off two people, six more hopped on board and stood in any space available. Before we went through the mandatory weigh station, the people who didn’t have seats got off the bus and stood by the curb. We picked them right back up after we had cleared the weight limit. Again, rules are negotiable.

We arrived in Moshi late at night and spent the next day in Moshi getting acquainted with the city. We met up with the McDows for dinner at “El Ranchero.” A Tex-Mex restaurant in Moshi? No. Not quite. It was an Indian restaurant… what, you couldn’t tell by the name?! Dinner was none-the-less, delicious.

The 24^th, Mom & I started climbing Kili while Dad & Anne started their first of four days of day hikes and safaris. I’ll write more about that later, though. Kili is a post all of its own.

Quick update to current times (Jan 18^th): last weekend I biked home from babysitting at 2am holding a kerosene lantern to light my way. With the electricity out, the few street lights that are here obviously aren’t functioning. While it felt like I was back with Paul Revere doing the whole “one if by land, two if by sea” thing, it was more effective than the headlight on the Vespa my Dad & I tried to rent that illuminated the road 1 foot behind us better than 1 foot in front. On this 18^th century-worthy expedition home, the grumbling whir of the neighbors’ generators competed with the whoosh of the wind rushing past my ears. The experience was quite Sleepy Hollow-esque: instead of being Ichabod Crane, the headless horseman and smashed pumpkin, it was me, a stray donkey and numerous squished mangoes that had fallen from a nearby tree. Almost the same thing, right? The worst part of the trek home was having to brace for the three sets of speed bumps: first, the bike I was riding was too tall to be controlled by one hand while the other was extending the lantern in hopes of giving me any prior warning to the road conditions; second, my skirt was too long (it kept getting tangled in the peddles); and lastly, I was way too sleepy to react quickly to all that jostling around. In any case, I made it home safely. I think next time, I’ll try to wear my nifty head lamp flashlight that my Mom got me for our Kili trek. Not quite as authentic as the lantern, but it will give me back the other hand to put on the handlebars, and will light the road slightly further out… so those speed bumps won’t sneak up on me.

Other than that, I’ve been quite busy working on the research project and doing Swahili lessons. We should start doing interviews in the next few weeks! I’m very excited.

I’ll try to write more soon. Hope all is well with everyone J Enjoy your electricity. I'm jealous.