School for the Blind and Kili day hike.

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So the end of the my 5th week was topped off with an amazing series of events on Friday. Generally, as mentioned before, I make home visitis on Friday, bu on this particular friday my mentor, Mama Justina, planned a day that I will always remember. First she had me dropped off at a random dala dala (the public transport here) stop; I really had no idea where I was, but my van driver had to go, and was just standing there looking around hoping that she would shopw up soon. Fortunately she was right along, and began our journey. We headed back into what is her neighborhood, it was very nice, and quiet. She was bringing me to her church to meet her pastor, and to check out the small nursery/primary school that was run within the church complex. It was such a cool experience to go in a local church and meet a religious figure head. The school was really nice, and organized too. All of the children get really excited to see a Mzungu (white person), and greeted me with much respect and interest. The actually greeting goes like this: they all stand up and place their right hand, palm facing out, on there forward and say "good moring teachahh, how are you dis morning" and i say "fine children and you" and then they say "Fine thank you, Shee-ka-moo- Mwalimu!!!!". Shikamoo is the way they show their respect to you, and as they say it they somewaht bow to you.
Then I had the chance to just sit in on a couple of the classes to see what they were learning, it was the standard Kiswahili lesson that most kids learn everyday (tanzanian education is firmly based on repetition), but it was still very cool to see. Although my expereince at thsi church/school was an amazing one I learned something that is kind of disturbing, and that is soo much money goes to churches. The pastor drove thsi brand new car, and the church was loaded with high tech Keyboards and speaker, so that on mass day they can singing along with the best sounding stereo. It baffles my becasue all of theses things are so unnecessary, furhtermore, just outside this church complex the poverty was unbearable to witness. Why can some of this church money be allocated else where??? its a quetion that has been answered by a few of the tanzanians that I have encountered, and have felt comfortable enough to ask such sensitive questions. The best synthesis of answers that I can come up with is that people get through the day, no matter how difficult it is, becasue of their tust and belief in god. Even if thery are sick, they may trek miles to fetch water, and their fuel is not a fresh hot breakfast, their fuel is religion. So to them it is completely justifiable to put everonce of energy, and funds into their place of worship, even if ends are not met at home......Crazy, and frustrating to me, but the way of life here. Even though I was perplexed by this issue, I did have a great time here.

Next on our journey was the Moshi School for the Visually Impaired. It was a 20 minute walk that seemed like it lasted ages, probably becasue we walked at a snails pace (TFT tanznaian flex time, noone is ever in a rush here, especailly my mentor). When we arrived I was amazed by the structures and size of the land that this school had. It was in the middle of nowhere which really made it quite interesting. The first person I met was the principal, but I was not aware that he was the principal becasue they were speaking in swahili, and he got a little offended when I didnt Shikamoo him. Kind of a bad start but whatever. HE was kind enough to give me the history of the school, and what kind of education went on inside this amazing school. He then Introduced to this woman, who's name has escaped me, that would be my "tour guide" for the day. She brought me all around the schoool which consisted of numerous buildings, dorm rooms, and dining halls. The tours first stop was the the dorms where the blind children lived. It was really cool to see that these kids can live together, so they dont feel like outcasts among their firends who may not be blind. We then headed to the classroom where young blind children are first taught how to read and write in braille. The teacher reminded me of Ray Charles, he had really dark sunglasses on becasue of the eye deformities, and he was typing away on his braille type writer. As I approached him he looked up and all I could see think was "Georgia, Georgia!". He types me out a cool message on the braille machine, and had me decode it, so cool. After this I was introduced to all of the kids in the class, and a lot of them were albino, a lot of children who are albino not only have vision issues but also social skills issues becasue they are harshly riduculed for their differences. The message that he typed out ended up reading "you are warmly welcomed mr. nick, My name is freddy, bye bye". It was very nice gesture, and he was thrilled to teach me how to read it. After this I was brought around all of the different classrooms ranging from 5 year olds to 20 year olds. All of the kids were once again welcoming, and excited to see a white person; some seemed scared. There was one class that contained an exceptionally large number of albino students, and all of the them sat at the front of the class so they had a better view of the blackboard; but when i first stepped into the classroom I thought that they were separated becasue of the their difference in skin color, and though how weird that would be, but they explained and it all made more sense. At the end of my tour I headed back to the prinipals offiuce to say thank you, but he wanted nothing to do with me, but everyone else was very warm and kindly said bye and thank you.

At this point in my day I was really satisfied with what I expereinced but my day was not over yet. My mentor, Mama Justina, informed me that she ahd a friend who needed to go to the hospital but she would not go if only she asked her to. She told me that If I came along and mentioned that she needed medical assistance then maybe she would change her mind. So before I know it I am sitting in this tiny, very poor, very afican apartment, speaking to a women that could speak no english trying to persuade her to go to the hospital. Apparently she was hit in the face by "accident" and it resulted in tremendous pain in the front part of her head and sensitivity to light. I think that she did not feel well enough to make the effort to go the hospital but I am glad that she decided to. So I waited outside her door while she changed and met a few of her neighboors who were very surprised to see a white person in their neighborhood, then we were off, I offered to pay for their dala dala expenses (85 cents) anf they were thrilled. We arrived at the hospital, and I continued to recieve looks from people, but determined that they were just curious as to why their is white guy at a hospital with two old women. The lady finally got into to see the doctor, and all he said was take some pain medicine, and wear sunglasses, and I was thinking I could have told her that, but whatever.

What a day!!

The following day was my Mt. Kilimanjaro day hike. We booked it through a guy we met in town that offered the hike for far less money than other tour companies, and we disregaured the fact that around here you get what you pay for. I really wish we could have just done the hike on our own, but they do not let white people on the mountain with out a guide, so we have to pay crazy expensive park fees, and hire guides.
We got picked up on time (promising) but when we saw the vehicle our trust began to dwindle. But we put our trust in the guy, I did see his office and website, and all seemed legitimate, so I justified the poor vehicle. On the way there we stoped and picked up a man with a big bandadge on his face with blood soaked through...thought it was weird but got over it. Then as I look around inside the van I notice all sorts of less then professional stickers all of the walls and ceiling of the van. But once I again I tell my self TIA (this is africa) and justify that it is fine. We fianlly arrive at the mountain, with so much excitement and anticipation. We sign in and lace up our boots, and soon enough we found out that we cant pay the park fees in US dollars, and the company we signed up with told us to bring only that. We were furious, and unusre what to do, fortunately our guide worked something out (which took about an hour of our valuable climbing tim) that allowed to pay someone to use their Tembo Card (a credit card that they excepted). So fianlly we begin our trek, we ended up having a great time on the mountain, and saw some beautiful things, tons of pictures. It was all rainforest, and moorland which was amzing. We so monkeys, and tons of birds...so beautifual. Got to the fisrt hut named Mandara (1/3 of the mountain) and had a nice lunch and checked out this small crater nearby. We then began our descent and ran into another problem. The tour comapny that we hired also did not inform us that we had to pay the second tour guide money out our pocket, so he began to hassle us. It started to ruin my time so I had to tell him off, then he had the nerve to ask how much we were going to tip him. I literterally had to tell him that the more he spoke then less money he would get and that he was making my trip unenjoyable, and still didnt get the picture. It didnt help that his english wasnt great, but I just walked off ahead of everyone, and enjoyed the last hour of the hike alone, and found that I had more fun doing this anyway. In then end it all worked out, but with too much stress. But oh well......
That night the newbies arrived and I was very excited to have another guy in the house.

I am still making great progress with my students, and my Kiswahili. I have been trying really hard to help my my more disabled students understand what the meaning of a number is. They have an extremely hard time grasping the concept that, for example, the word "hat" has three letters. So their has been some frustrations, but many success. With the more advanced students I am teaching a couple of the kids multiplication, and they are getting it!!! Also I have taught them random little schortcuts in math that makes it far easier, but these teachers dont want their kids to know. They are all about repetition, and sometimes I can handle it. When I have the class to myself I make far more progress becasuse I dont have a skeptical teacher trying to tell me that what I am teaching is wrong, or mostly they will say " oh, dont bother, they wont get that", but in acutality all they need is a little more attention and patience and before you know it they completely understand what you are teaching. It feels really good to get through to these kids, and they get so excited when they actually learn something new....!


later,
Niko

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