Photo album of our latest adventures

So, the last post was a little of a downer....

Here is something to lighten the mood. It is a photo album of a few different trips that we have gone on.
Enjoy!

Maji Moto and Pangani

The Nitty Gritty--not for the faint of heart

It’s 4 am and I am wide-awake yet exhausted at the same time…so I figured that I might as well be useful and work on a blog post.

*Please note that this is a fairly graphic post about female genital mutilation.....

Our days are busy. This week we are doing a few more field visits which are very interesting. It is always nice to get out of the classroom and see how effectively (or not) theory become practice.

Yesterday we visited a district health center in Arusha. Essentially it is a public clinic that does all out patient treatments. I am still learning how their health care structure works and at 4 a.m. on little sleep, the details are fuzzy.  Lets just say that we are lucky in the United States.  One of the main issues is that the country only allocates about 3% of its budget towards the health care system and even less to the educational system—but that’s a topic for another day.

The problems are sort of predictable. There is a shortage of nurses, infrastructure is lacking and they have nowhere near the capacity to serve all the people in need of health services. Plus, each district has only one health center, which makes accessibility very difficult.  There are private health facilities, but they are very expensive.

From there we went to visit a NGO called HIMS. One of the main missions of the organization is to raise awareness and put an end to female genital mutilation, which is a common practice among many tribes. It is very prevalent within the Maasai Tribe, of which there are many in the Arusha region. I know that I have learned of it in the past, but learning about the gritty details in the area where it is still ingrained in the culture of certain tribes is a whole different story. The cultural myths, the misogyny, the gender marginalization and the brutal reality of what happens to a woman/girl when she gets mutilated are a lot to comprehend. I might as well share them with you for some nice light reading:

So first of all, it is considered a right of passage. A girl is not considered a woman until she has been mutilated (also referred to as female circumcision), even if she is 50 years old. Essentially the clitoris is regarded as a penis and if a woman has her clitoris, it is as if there are two men in the household. Another myth surrounding the clitoris that I was told—I believe as a scare tactic—is that during childbirth, if the woman still has her clitoris, it will grow very long and wrap around her throat and kill her.

There are three types of genital mutilation and it can happen as early as the age of seven. The type of mutilation depends on how sexual the girl appears to be. The more sexual she appears to be, the more extreme the mutilation. Let me remind you that these are observations of a young, developing, prepubescent girl. If she seems to show few signs of having a high level of sexuality, then just the clitoris is removed. This takes away her ability to receive physical or sexual pleasure. If she shows signs of a higher level of sexuality, then the clitoris and the labia are removed. Not only does this take away the ability to experience sexual pleasure, but it also takes away the bodies ability to produce fluids that are necessary for lubrication during intercourse. So, not only is sex not pleasurable, but it is also painful as there is lots of friction and they commonly have to use lard as a lubricant for the husband’s ease of penetration. Below is a picture of the tools used to perform the task. 

The third type is the most invasive, which includes actually stitching up the opening, leaving just a small hole for urine and menstruation. This is to ensure that she is not able to have sex at all. The stitching is then removed when it is time for her husband to have sex with her. 

All of these practices are done in a very unsterile way. It is hard to know how many women get infections and/or die from this practice because if it happens, it is meant to be a secret and goes unreported. If you thought it was bad enough, wait, because it gets worse.

Another repercussion of the genital mutilation is that it decreases the body’s ability to expand during childbirth. I am not going to go into those details because I think that you can connect the dots. Most of us know about the physics and necessary body mechanics involved for childbirth. So, one practice to lessen the burden on the body during childbirth is that once a woman becomes pregnant, she begins to be extremely underfed for the duration of her pregnancy. The purpose is to keep the child as small as possible in order to ease the birthing process. The reasoning makes sense, but the reason that it makes sense is so hard to comprehend that we are back in the realm of not making sense again.

I remember learning about this practice in the past and trying to understand it through a cultural lens, hearing about it more in the context of a right of passage for the woman. However, as I learn more, there is no part of me that does not see this as an extreme abuse of human rights.

Here is a poster in the clinic that is being used to educate and encourage the ending of this practice:

Education is key. I think that a lot of them do it because of the myths, beliefs and stereotypes that are ingrained in their culture. For instance, the girl must sit on a cowhide for the circumcision procedure. It is believed that once she sits on that hide, if she does not get circumcised, she will die…

I realize that this was a bit of a harsh and graphic post. I didn't really enjoy writing this or reading this myself. However, I do believe that the more honest we are, that faster and more appropriate change is possible. I have no solutions. I am just sleepless in Tanzania and this was what I felt I needed to write about.

At the very least, may this make you feel gratitude for the freedoms that you do have. I don’t know what else to say…I don’t think that there is really an upbeat way to end this post.

So, I will just say goodbye.

Love,

Sadie

Kleopa's Machame Shamba

On Friday, our Kiswahili teacher, Kisanji, took us to the village of Machame. It is about 45 minutes from our school. We had no idea what to expect and we were blown away. This land is at the base of Mount Kilimanjaro and is the land of the Wachugga tribe. It is mountainous, but VERY lush and so untouched.....except for the seemingly endless winding, rocky dirt roads that weave up and over and around and through the landscape. It really was incredible. You just get lost in the mountains.

We visited the home and farm (shamba) of Kleopa--pronounced Clay-Oh-Pa. He is the son of a Chugga Tribe Chief and he has an incredible home and farm. It is considered a blessing to have guests and they love to feed you. The food was amazing. Here is Kleopa and just a sample of all the food that he served us: I believe that it is all from his farm, including the coffee. For our first meal, we had sweet potato, wild yam, corn and some other kind of potato. And coffe. Always coffee. For our second meal, we had slow roasted beef, banana soup, beans and veggies! So delicious. Straight from the source. It just makes you feel so good.

They took us all over. In this picture is Kleopa and our Kiswahili teacher, Kisanji. Kisanji is just a gem of a human being and such a delight to be around. I am so grateful that he arranged to take us on such a wonderful adventure. It really is a great way to learn about the country, culture and people. 

It was funny, because in this picture, we were at the base of one of the main trails to climb Mount Kilimanjaro. There were muzungos (white people) everywhere. We smiled, but didn't really talk to any of them. Kleopa explained to Kisanji that our culture is very weird. He said that in his culture, if you saw another one of your "kind"...so to speak....that they would great one another. He thought that it was strange that we were ignoring one another. Yep. We are a bunch of weirdos. That made me feel a bit funny....and not funny haha. 

So.....he took us all over. I have a link to the full photo album at the bottom and it explains more of the day. We did so much. He took us all over the place and it was incredible. Literally jaw-dropping gorgeous. I felt truly euphoric when we were walking through the jungle to the swimming hole by the water fall. The land is amazing, lush, dense, untouched and so, so vibrant. It feels amazing. The land that we are walking through in these next few pictures in owned by Kleopa and his family. 

We totally swam here. It was amazing. After the second waterfall visit, he showed us the coffee farm behind his house and also took us through the whole process from harvest to the cup. So much work goes into a cup of coffee. No wonder it tastes so good. We all bought coffee from him. 

In this picture is the fist step after drying the beans. He made this contraption. I love his daughter in the background. She was beautiful but very shy. 

Then, after winnowing the beans, you mash them up in here. 

Then the roasting. That is where we left off because we were running short on time. Speaking of short on time, I have to run!

 If you want to see more photos, which I highly recommend, just click on the title below:

Kleopa's Machame Shamba

I hear the Midwest is snowed in. I feel like apologizing for posting these tropical pictures, but maybe it will just help transport you to a happy place! Hey, being snowed in has its perks too as long as you have plenty of good food and a good book to curl up with. 

Much love from Tanzania!!!!

Sadie

Wait!! One last photo. The clouds parted and Mount Kilimanjaro is literally his view from his front yard! Incredible!!!!!

A Love Letter to Tanzania

Here in Tanzania, I often feel as if I am moving through my days as any day would flow, moving from one thing to the next; observing, responding, reacting, and at times just simply being…and then there are moments when I realize that I really am moving through and absorbing another culture without even trying. It is just there and so am I and it is like a dance. The steps come easier if you just let it happen to you. At the end of the day, I feel the same level of exhaustion that comes from dancing all night! It is a very satisfying level of exhaustion and my bed feels like heaven.

I have never been this far away from home and I had no idea how it would feel. It feels like nothing at all. I might as well be just a few towns away. Home. That is an interesting word or maybe more a concept. I guess that I don’t feel like I am “away from home”. Home is where the heart is. I do believe that. If someone asked me if I wanted to go “home” tomorrow, I would honestly have to say no. I have more to learn. I feel very much at home here. The people are so warm and welcoming. I do believe that to feel love is to feel at home and I carry all of my loved ones around with me everyday in my mind and my heart. You are all with me all the time and it gives me so much courage. Of course, it helps knowing that I will see you all again. I do fear leaving here, because it is unknown if I will ever see these people again. People who, in such a short time, have become so dear to me and have so openly and warmly welcomed me into their homes and their lives. It is a very loving culture. I will miss that.

I love how people express themselves with language here. I was speaking with one of our teachers. He wanted us to explain our studies back home. After I explained why I study and work with housing and families, he goes, “Ah! YOU are in my VEINS!” The people here are so enthusiastic and genuine with their level of excitement. I love how they speak English and it is so fun learning their language of Kiswahili. As I learn more I really am starting to understand what they mean when they say that the language is a part of their culture. It’s vague…as if I am searching for something in the dark. I can feel it, but I don’t quite know what it is…but it feels familiar. That is how learning this language feels. There is a saying that goes something like: “Speak to a man in a language that he understands and it goes to his head; Speak to a man in his own language and it goes to his heart.” It couldn’t be more true. I hope to be able to speak to their hearts, because they speak to mine every day.

When I was younger, I let the world break my heart too easy. Now I am learning to draw strength from the subtleties. There is so much beauty that lies in between. There is so much joy and strength and resilience waiting to be noticed; all along the foot worn paths that carry us along, and the people that pass by one another. There is always the possibility of an exchange. If you decide to engage and greet them, you will receive the largest, most genuine smile you have ever seen. Do not question for a moment why such a smile. Just smile back and let it come from deep inside too. That is an exchange of the beauty that lies in between all that is around us.

All around me, there is work and there is action and there is a strong will to survive. There is love and there is dignity. It can get overwhelming to try and understand the big picture of what is going on and why; always why. I find it helpful to take in the largest view that I can; a whole hillside or mountain range, or whatever is in my view. Then I narrow in and narrow in and gradually focus on a smaller and smaller picture until I am looking at an individual leaf or stone, or something very small. Realizing the complexity and history of even the smallest things that surround us makes me feel calm. It makes me realize how insignificant I am. Not in a bad way, but in a very freeing way. It makes things seem less daunting and it makes the task of putting one foot in front of the other seem so incredibly simple and easy.    

I don’t think that we ever truly realize all that we are capable of. I am grateful for life experiences that show me the ways that I am capable of moving through and interacting with the world. It is an incredibly freeing sensation. Thank you, Tanzania, for sharing yourself with me and in turn, allowing me to share myself with you. I have childlike anticipation for all the ways that our relationship will grow. 

Love,

Sadie Rose Gannett

Telling Stories of Marangu Falls

Wow.....we are on our third week and it is starting to fly by. There is very little downtime. Every day brings new experiences and a bit more insight into the culture. I will try to recap the last few days. Here goes:

On Saturday, we went to Marangu Falls which is about 2 hours from Makumira. It is very close to the Kenyan border and also the land of the Chagga tribe people. I love going on drives because you get to just watch the land pass by and observe people going about their everyday lives. Watching the landscape change is very cool. The land in between Makumira and Moshi is fairly flat and expansive with very red soil. The locally made and widely used bricks to build with are also very red. Lightbulb! I asked our driver, Alex, if this was the same soil that they use to make the bricks for building. He said yes.

This photo is a good example of the red soil and the building style with the bricks and tin roofs. Most houses then get plastered over with concrete and painted. That seemed much less common in the rural areas. I also love how the colorful plastic pails look against the brown and red earth.

So we make it to Marangu Falls and I should not have been surprised that we were then greeted by another guide. People take you everywhere here. I am sure we were hilarious to them because we were taking pictures of EVERYTHING. "Oh, look at that plant! This is sooooooooo beautiful." I kept saying to the guide, "mzuri sana and asante sana" which means very beautiful...and thank you very much. The area of Marangu is very lush with rolling hills covered in banana trees and all sorts of flora that I have yet to learn the names of. 

Whatd'ya think.....Can I talk her down AND slay the approaching leopard? 

At the top of the waterfall is a statue of the maiden, Makinuka, who fell to her death at these falls. The legend has it that she had gotten pregnant with an illegitimate child. Her fate was death by ritualistic spearing or stoning. Instead of facing her fateful death at the hands of others, she decided to jump from the falls. However, it is said that at the last minute she changed her mind and decided not to jump.... alas, a leopard was approaching her, getting ready to pounce. She slipped and fell to her death. 

   

                                          Who can resist an exuberant waterfall picture?!

So we walked through the winding hills for a few hours, being told about the food that grows in that area. They have two kinds of bananas: one that is small and sweet that is used for eating and also for the juice to ferment the millet for the local beer. The other kind is longer, thinner and firmer and is used for cooking; very similar in taste and texture to a potato. They also grow coffee. There are two kinds: arabica and robusto. The most common is arabica.  There is also guava and rasberries. There was another plant that looked like amaranth, but the guide called spinach. Here is our guide. He was very proud when I asked if I could take his picture. He was very informative, smiley and nice. It is also a good idea to throw a little tip in with the handshake at the end. It was well earned.

He also explained the symbol for the Chagga tribe. On the side, it is lined with leaves of the forgiveness tree. On the left is a coffee plant and on the right in a banana tree which represent sustenance (I think!). Mount Kilimanjaro is in the background and a leopard, which symbolizes power, sits at the top. The saying at the bottom means something along the lines of being united with God. I hope that I remembered this all right....it was only 4 days ago, but so much happens everyday!

In this picture below, there is a pool that collects water from the river. Just beyond that, there was a tent. What an ideal campsite....in the lush tropical forest next to the sound of rushing water with a beautiful stone lined pool to take a refreshing dip in. Ahhhhhhhhhh......

You could tell we were getting closer to town as homes were dotted all along the hillside. I love the rusty colors that come out in the metal roofs. I also love the contrast of the colorful laundry against the intense, lush, green hills. 

So that was Saturday! On Sunday, I went to church with my family. They are Pentecostal and they have lots of singing and dancing. The whole service was in Swahili....so I just swayed and listened and felt the breeze coming in from the open windows. The church was out in the bush.....very rural and wide open with a view of Mount Meru in the distance. At one point I recognized the word for "guest". I looked up and my baba is gesturing for me to stand up! So I stood up and, in my limited swahili, said my name, where I am from and who I live with here in Tanzania. Jina langu, Sadie. Mimi ninataka,  Mericani, jimbo Minnesota. Mimi ninakaa Mama na Baba Vivian in Makumira. My baba said that it was correct and good. Phew. 

I wish that I had brought my camera.....in the middle of the service, my brother, Brian, turned to me and said that we were going to walk to Bibi's (grandma). So we walked for about a half hour along a dirt road and then turned and walked further into the bush. We came to a tiny little house made out of clay bricks. Out came the most adorable little bibi ever!!! She had only a few teeth, but just a gigantic smile. I said, "Shikamoo!" which means "I give you my respect" She responded, "Marahaba!!" Which means, I accept your respect. She just babbled on and on as I smiled and knodded and just said, "polepole....kidogo swahili." Slowly, slowly.....very little swahili. 

This home was where mama was born and raised with 8 other sisters and a brother! I got to meet a lot of them....with just smiles and a few greetings. They don't speak English. Sorry...I realize that my verb tenses are jumping all over the place!

Of course they presented me with food! Tanzanian hospitality. If you eat it makes them very happy. We had ugali, which is a traditional stiff porridge. You grab it, roll it into a small ball in your hand, indent it a little bit and use it to scoop up the food. There was fish, some sort of soup with okra and greens. Brian helped me translate a few things...not sure how much really got communicated. Oh well. Just smile, eat,  and say, mzuri and asante sana over and over and over again!

There was a funny moment, as they got more comfortable....I joined them under a tree in the shade. It was three of the sisters and the brother. They started touching my jewelry, tattoos, skin and hair. They just kept giggling. Sometime you just gotta let it happen. I felt like a freakshow on display. It was very funny and we all got a good laugh over my muzungo-ness. Muzungo means white person. 

Well...that is all for now. There is so much more to tell, but I am tired of writing and I want to keep these posts semi-coherent. 

Oh! One more thing--today we went to the market to practice bargaining in Swahili. It was really cool actually. The market is something else. We were told not to bring our cameras...so you will just have to imagine. It was huge, colorful, bustling with people and men trying to weave through the paths with large metal carts filled with bananas on the stem. Vendor after vendor with their fruits and vegetable laid out on cloth on the ground. I went with 2000 shillings, which is about $1.20 and I got so much food! It is incredible. People were excited when they heard me speak Swahili and ask for fruits and vegetable in their language. 

Okay. More later. This country and culture is ever unfolding before me. 

Love, Sadie

Marangu Falls

The Legend of Marangu Falls.........

Just a brief update on a new photo album. I will write more about the weekend later. So, so busy.

If you want to get old fashioned.....

In case any of you want to send me a love letter or a package, I can receive mail through the school:

Sadie Gannett c/o MS-TCDC

P.O. Box 254

Arusha, Tanzania

I like dark chocolate and green tea and stories....just sayin'