Corporal Punishment

Posted on October 13, 2012 by Alexander Rolnick

Corporal punishment, or “giving the stick,” is very common in Tanzanian schools. Indeed, it is how nearly all teachers punish students and maintain control of their classrooms. Nearly all teachers derive a sense of authority from the stick, and when they are “on duty” teachers carry a stick around as a kind a baton, waving it at students and shouting things like, “wewe, njoo!” (you, come!). It may come as a surprise to many Americans that this is how Tanzanian schools operate, but without many of the administrative additions of American schools, Tanzanian teachers are not only administrators, but also (as I have been told by other staff members), police, councilors, advisors, second parents, and, of course, teachers. While some teachers have permanent administrative positions in addition to their teaching duties (like discipline master, second master, academic master, and so on), every week two teachers are assigned the position of “teacher on duty.” These teachers are responsible for the day to day operations of school, and this last week was my first time “on duty.”

The teachers on duty, as you might expect, have a multitude of responsibilities, many of which (even after following my first experience) are still unknown to me. The foremost responsibility is that of disciplinarian. Is a student not cleaning the environment with enough dedication? Hit them. Is a student late to school? Hit them (or make them carry water from the well, which according to different estimates is somewhere between 3 and 8 kilometers away from the school). Is a student not moving to their classroom fast enough? Hit them (or at least, threaten to hit them). Are the students being too loud in their classrooms? Hit them. As you can see, the response is pretty uniform, though some teachers use hitting in addition to other strategies, like special cleaning duties, kneeling, or chalk in the hair.

At this point, you may be wondering why students seem to have a responsibility to clean the environment, but the answer is quite clear if you give it a bit of thought: there are no janitors in Tanzanian schools. Every morning for 30 minutes before classes start students “clean the environment.” Largely this consists of picking of leaves that have fallen on the ground, but there is a rotating schedule for mopping the staff rooms, and doing things like cleaning the latrines. These things, by the way, happen every day. An interesting feature of Tanzanian schools is that there are no waste bins, so if anyone has trash it is simply thrown on the ground, with the expectation that it will be picked up the next morning. There are pen caps, bottle caps, old pens, and bits of trash all over the grounds. Oddly, less priority is placed on the pickup of these items than the fallen leaves, which garner most of the attention. During morning cleanliness, the teacher on duty walks around ensuring that the students are picking up “rubbish,” using the strategies I mentioned above for ensuring compliance. However, it is simply impossible for students to spend 30 minutes cleaning the environment, so the students do most of their cleaning when a stick is pointed in their direction. As teacher on duty I prioritized trash on the ground, but as the students began to realize that I was not going to beat them, their energy level for cleaning decreased even further below the moderately false enthusiasm they demonstrate when sticks are pointed their way.

The teacher on duty has a number of other responsibilities that I may get into in another post, but I want to focus here on corporal punishment, so I will return to the classroom. This same week I began to have my first serious discipline problems in class. In my first two classes of the week, my Form II students, who I had only taught for a week previously, would not quiet down. They had been introduced to my rules, which basically consist of variations of “Respect,” which is an important element of Tanzanian culture. 1) The students need to respect Mr. Alex by being silent when he is talking, and 2) The students need to respect each other by being silent when their classmates are talking. It is pretty simple, but in these two classes they simply would not be quiet. We were trying to do a reading exercise, and I could hardly hear the students reading because of all the side conversations that were taking place. Needless to say, I was very frustrated. At the beginning of the next class I began a very serious conversation with them, beginning with “Why do students talk in class?” on the blackboard. I asked for their opinions, and then asked what I should do. I told them I had too much respect for them as people to use the stick like their other teachers do. Nevertheless, a number of my students suggested taking that course of acton.

Corporal punishment is so ingrained in Tanzanian schools that I think it is difficult for students to imagine discipline operating in any other way. I told them that I didn’t want to have to punish them, but if their behavior continued they would be forced to sit in a chair facing the rest of the class, which is something they do not like. If their behavior continued to be a problem, I was going to make them go outside and roll in the dirt near our classroom. When other teachers and parents asked why they were dirty, I told them, they would have to say “I was disrespectful in Mr. Alex’s class.” They laughed at this. I hope I do not have to inflict this punishment, because it would probably mean that they would get beat by other teachers for being dirty, and their parents would have the problem of dealing with their children’s one set of school clothes being dirty, but I wanted a serious disciplinary method that was not the stick, or referring students to a higher authority (which also would have meant the stick). My students were great for the rest of the week, but we will see how things progress.

All week I had an internal dialogue going about whether I could ever use the stick on a student. If you had asked me before coming to Tanzania whether I would ever consider it, I would have said no, but now I am not so sure. It is such a big part of the Tanzanian school culture, that not using it draws looks of incredulity from other teachers. But, faced between referring a student to the discipline master for a serious disciplinary matter in the confines of my class, and disciplining the student myself, I think I would use the stick on a student. This is not to say that the stick is a useful or worthwhile source of discipline, but in a culture that is reliant on it there is a certain source of power associated with its use, especially as a last resort. To my mind it is overused, and I don’t think its use has any real effect on influencing the long-term behavior of some students, but as a final option, it is hard to dispute its power-effects on students.

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Theft in Tanzania

Posted on October 6, 2012 by Alexander Rolnick

Theft is Tanzania is taken very seriously by most ordinary people. Indeed, in a society without a lot of resources, people have taken to punishing theft very seriously (often by killing the thief), oftentimes outside the bounds of the law, but within the bounds if the law as well. I think this is not only a product of resource poor society, but also as a result of the community oriented ethos that many Tanzanians have.

That said, theft is still common in Tanzania, and white people are particular targets as they are seen as being wealthy. Until last night I was lucky enough to avoid being the target of theft, but I have heard many stories about the results of theft from Tanzanians and other volunteers. Early into my stay in Dar, as I walked through the largest market in Tanzania (Kariakoo), with some Tanzanians, we were told that despite the warnings of our guidebooks theft was not actually very common among Tanzanians in Kariakoo. This is because, as I suggested, thieves are mobbed, stoned, and killed. The Tanzanian I was with said he had personally witnessed two people killed in the market after stealing something. The first was stoned, and then had a nail hammered into his head. The second was stoned, and then forced to drink a watery concrete solution. After ‘justice’ was done, the thieves bodies were dragged to a nearby police station.

Another WorldTeach volunteer was on the bus home from a neighboring town, when a fight broke out on the bus. A man’s phone had been stolen, and he was accusing someone else on the bus. At some point, the bus stopped, many of the men piled off, and a brawl took place. Eventually, all the men got back on the bus, and decided to go back to the nearest town to try and have the police resolve the situation. Everyone on the bus was strip searched, as police searched for the phone. The volunteer, having the same phone as the man, was actually accused by him of having stolen his phone. Luckily, a Tanzanian came to her defense. Eventually, the man’s phone was found in another man’s bag. Even though the police were there, the thief was surrounded and killed.

As you can see, theft is taken is very seriously in Tanzania. So, last night, as I played volleyball with some civil servants in Ngara, it was not a surprise when some children yelled “mwizi” (thief in Swahili – a word that needs to be used very cautiously, as it has the potential to mean death for the person accused) that everyone came running, not only to inspect their belongings, but to see if the thief was still around. All the volleyball players had put their bags next to a couple of motorcycles and my bicycle, and I was told to inspect my belongs. Immediately I noticed that my pants were strewn over my bicycle, and my heart dropped. I had too much money in my pockets (40,000 tsh, or around $30), and my cell phone (which, luckily, is the cheapest phone money can buy). Luckily, my cell phone, with all its numbers, was still in my pocket, but the money was gone. I have lost more to theft in the past, and since I still had my phone, I was feeling pretty lucky, though I didn’t really understand what was going on since everything else was in Swahili. On hearing that I’d lost 40,000 tsh, my Tanzanian friend jumped on his motorcycle with a boy and drove off. I had no idea where he’d gone, and while my friend is a lot more moderate than many Tanzanians, it was hard for me not to worry somewhat about what was going to happen to this boy.

I waited at the field for 45 minutes or so with a few of the Tanzanians I had been playing volleyball with, until a guy on a bike showed up and said my friend had asked him to accompany me home, since my friend had left his phone, wallet, and laptop with me. It was 7:30 at this point, so it was dark. I arrived home, and waited for my friend to arrive. Around 8:30, he arrived with a friend, and a cowering little boy. He handed me my money, and proceeded to tell me that the boy he had left the field with knew some other boys, who knew where the boy lived. My friend had found the boy’s house, but he ran off after my friend arrived. My friend hid behind some banana trees, and awaited the return of the boy. Eventually he caught him, and after some coercive action the boy led him to where he had hidden the money.

I was happy to have the money returned, but more than anything I was happy that my friend has approached the situation so well. The boy did not look too worse for wear, though he was obviously terrified, and my friend said that he hoped he had been able to teach the boy a lesson. I think that if many other Tanzanians had been in my friend’s shoes, the boy might not be alive at this point. Even so, I have no idea what happened to him after he was returned to his parents. So, while it was nice to get my money back, I couldn’t help but worry about the boy. I hope that he has learned a lesson, but I hope that the lesson was not literally beat into him by disapproving parents.

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“English only education”

Posted on October 2, 2012 by Alexander Rolnick

My most faithful and dedicated readers will notice that a few blog posts ago I used the phrase “English only education” in the same quotation marks that they appear here. You might have wondered why I used these quotation marks, or you might have made a connection with one of my first posts about Ngara, and realized that it meant that “English only education” in Tanzania means education that is not anything at all like English only.

This has been something I have been thinking about for a while, but this weekend I (and many of the teachers at Ngara District’s 27 Secondary Schools) went to a seminar hosted by the District Education Officer (DEO), who is the head of Secondary Education in Ngara. This seminar ended up being somewhere between 8-9 hours, which is rather long, especially given that 90% of it was in Swahili (meaning, effectively, that I understood next to nothing of the stuff in Swahili). This is something that I am getting used to, having sat through a number of 3 hour staff meetings that were also all in Swahili (though at these, at least, I had the occasional summary of the content). I am somewhat used to and generally prepared to sit through these shorter meetings, though to be honest they can be pretty boring. I think if I was able to follow along better they would be fascinating, but that’s just how things are.

In any case, this meeting was only supposed to be six hours, and I had heard in advance from a teacher friend that a lot of it was going to be in English, because “English only education” was on the agenda. I was disappointed. The meeting open with a series of speeches in Swahili, until eventually one of the Headmasters had the floor for 10 minutes. He gave a talk about the importance of teachers only using English at school (in all settings), and another Headmaster followed the speech up with an impassioned comment about how this was an important issue that more time needed to be dedicated to. More time was not dedicated to it, and much of the rest of the seminar was held in Swahili.

Before I proceed, I should say that I have mixed feelings about the issue. On the one hand, as someone who is not anywhere close to fluent in Swahili, I have a horse in the race – it is in my interest that English is used exclusively, because I will understand everything that is going on much better. Additionally, I think it would really help develop the English proficiency of the teachers. Many of the teachers (at my school at least – at other more rural schools I think this is less true) speak decent English, but they would be far better English speakers if they only used English while at school. Also, I think it would help the students a lot, especially once they have learned their English basics. It is problematic that teachers continue to use a lot of Swahili in their lessons into Form III and Form IV, because many students never actually learn English over the course of their Secondary School educations. On the other hand, I don’t think it is a bad idea for teachers to use Swahili from time to time as they explain difficult concepts. As one teacher put it to me today, “sometimes you have to use Swahili to make sure they understand a concept.” Indeed, the expecation is that teachers should use all English in their form I classes, which includes courses like Civics and Geography, which can hardly be taught to Tanzanians who hardly understand English in English. The use of Swahili is only problematic when it takes over lessons, and as it persists throughout the education of Tanzanian students, who, as I said, make it to Form IV without speaking hardly any English. Part of the problem here is also simply that some teachers lack the English proficiency to effectively teach in the language.

Returning to the seminar, I thought it was really ironic that this was an issue that was brought up, that the DEO said was important (“teachers should use English only”), and then that most of the rest of the seminar continued in Swahili. As I have said previously, it is easy to understand why – Tanzanians are simply more comfortable in Swahili, and even in a room full of teachers, speaking in only English would undoubtably leave many of those teachers confused on some points. It seems to me that if “English only education” is to be taken seriously, the people advocating it need to set the example for teachers and take on “English only” themselves. Signs at all the schools say “English only,” but nobody takes them seriously, and as I have said, “English only education” is actually an impractical, and probably misguided, idea.

That said, the status quo of promoting “English only education,” while turning a blind eye to the fact that that it is anything but, is obviously not working either. In fact, promoting “English only education,” while teachers and students know that this is not, and will not, be the case, probably does more harm than good. For major improvements to be made in the Tanzanian education system, this idea needs to be rethought and revised. Indeed, if “English only” is a joke to Tanzanian teachers, it’s an even a bigger joke to Tanzanian students.

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Mzungu

Posted on September 22, 2012 by Alexander Rolnick

If there is anything that a white person one cannot forgot while living in Tanzania it is that he or she is a mzungu. This is word literally means a person who walks in circles, but practically is used by Tanzanians of all walks of life to mean a white person, a foreigner, or someone different.

Everywhere I go, I am met with calls of “mzungu! mzungu!” These calls range from 4 year old children on the side of the road, to middle aged men in the middle of their work. Admittedly, the calls come from different places and have different meanings. The kids, by in large, – I think – are just surprised to see a white person walking or bicycling through their streets, and they shout it with the hopes that this different person will wave or say hello. Also, they seem to want to alert the world to my presence. While they have seen different white people over the course of their lives, they have not seen many, and even if they see me every day for a year I will not be surprised to continue to hear them shout it. They are simply intrigued by difference, and want to acknowledge it. Also, I think many of them hope I will give them money. I never give them money, but I always to try to acknowledge their presence with a wave or greeting in Swahili, which I have noticed often gets me a “shikamoo,” which is a respectful greeting for someone older than you, to which I respond “marahaba,” which acknowledges the sign of respect.

The call sounds much different coming from a middle aged man, and depending on the person I think it has different meanings. Earlier today, for example, I was biking home from school, and this man working on his bike by the side of the road shouted it. I take these shouts as a kind of “hey bro, what’s up,” except that instead of bro they are saying “mzungu!” To these calls, I respond with a casual Swahili greeting like “Mambo,” or, when I want to make it clear that I speak a little Swahili, something a little more detailed. Normally, these responses are taken enthusiastically by the shouter, who answers, and then sometimes responds with another greeting. I think, if I wanted, I could stop what I was doing and spend a few minutes chatting with these people. Others, I think, say “mzungu!” as a kind of joke with whoever they are with, wanting to gauge the response of the mzungu. Normally, my greetings in this case are taken with some surprise and amusement that I have, in fact, responded.

The other place where I hear it consistently is at school. Students will mutter it to one another as I pass, like high schoolers might talk about one of the teachers. I am never sure what they are saying, but based on some inside information I think largely the student body either thinks I am cool (sharobalo), or is somewhat intimidated by me, and mzungu is just their term for saying something about the white teacher. Finally, the teachers will use it when they are talking about me. They all know my name, but I think for them the word mzungu conjures up the idea of a cultural and linguistic outsider. When I shrug my shoulders in confusion after one of them has tried something out on me in Swahili that I am utterly confused by, it is not uncommon for someone to say something about the mzungu in Swahili. Here, I feel it is used with a kind of endearment. The teachers all know I am working on my Swahili, and so when I am confused they not only think that I am learning, but also find it rather funny that I am not fluent yet. Indeed, they often say, “you will be fluent in one month, Swahili is very easy!”

Some white people get very bothered by the label over the course of their time in Tanzania, and while I have not been here particularly long yet (nearly two months in Tanzania, but much less in Ngara), I cannot imagine it will ever bother me that much. I am an outsider here, and that, at its heart, is what mzungu means. While some people are offended to have it continually brought up – to have a constant reminder of their difference – the truth is that I am different, and the physical manifestation of my difference is dramatic in a town that is nearly 100% black. It may not be the greatest way to be acknowledged, but given the enthusiasm with which people shout it and, and the amiable responses I get after initiating greetings, there is a pleasant element to it as well, even if all that is really being acknowledged is that I am different. While I think that I will always get the mzungu call, I have noticed over the past few days that I am also getting a different call – teacher. That one, I have no sense of ambivalence about: teacher, or mwalimu, is a word of great respect in Tanzania.

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The O-Level Exam and my students

Posted on September 19, 2012 by Alexander Rolnick

I am teaching Form IV English, which means my students are [very roughly] the equivalent of High School seniors in the states. However, as a result of a national census-shortened Semester, my students are graduating this coming Friday. Nevertheless, they still have, as of September 16th, 3 full weeks of classes until they take their O-Level (ordinary level) national exams, after which they are officially done with Secondary School.

Their post-Secondary School life is entirely dependent on their performance on the national exams. If they score well enough to make it into one of the 3 highest achievement divisions, they are able to go on to A-level, which we could compare to Community College in the US, though it is more specifically aimed at preparing students for university. If they score within the fourth highest achievement division they can go to a teachers college for primary school, or go on to vocational school. And, if they score below this fourth pool, their education in Tanzania is effectively over. I believe that most students end up ‘failing’ the exam and ending their education.

Needless to say, most students take the exams very seriously, unless of course they are nowhere near to being able to pass. They are tested not only in English – where a reasonable level of proficiency is needed to end up in this forth division or better – but also (depending on whether they have decided to focus on the sciences or the arts) biology, chemistry, physics, math, geography, history, civics, Swahili, and possibly some others that I have forgotten. Students need a C or better on three different exams to advance to the A-level, and they must take at least 7 exams total. A C is between 41-60%, which is failing by American standards, but the difficulty of the exams make it much easier to distinguish between those of higher ability. Indeed, if students score an A (81-100%) on all their exams (something that is very rare), or A’s mixed in with a couple B’s, they will go to a special A-level school with extra resources and, presumably, the best teachers.

The national exams are very difficult, and at times confusing. On the English exams I have looked over, I have noticed many grammatical errors, and some incorrect use of the English language. This is also true for math and sciences, according to other WorldTeach volunteers, who have actually faced the dilemma of whether to teach a subject correctly, or to teach it incorrectly to match up with the “correct” answers on the exams. Further, some the actual content of some of the topics tested in English are – to my American eyes at least – rather silly. NECTA (the National Examination Council), administers and develops these exams in a very secretive and closed off way, completely apart from the Tanzanian Ministry of Educational and Vocational Training, which runs all the schools in the country.

In any case, passing these exams is a significant hurdle for my students to jump over, if they wish to continue being students. When I introduced myself to my students, I told them that I would be available to help them whenever I was in my office, and that they were welcome to come ask me questions. As such, since my arrival, I have had students in and out of my shared office all day long, with questions about the English exam, many of which I simply do not know the answer to. One student came in with an exam prep book from 1993 that had questions from a past exam, wanting to know how to change a sentence into “reported” English. Looking over my more recent exam prep book, I told her that I didn’t think the current exam would ask such a question. Another was trying to figure out how to change a sentence by adding in a phrase that the exam required. This one I simply did not understand – the English was too Tanzanian for me to know where to begin.

By in large, these students visiting my office are the ones with relatively developed English language skills, and though their English is still at a low level these students are eager to learn and speak English. Most of my students, even including the ones with decent verbal skills, still struggle to write a ‘correct’ English sentence. And, the vast majority of my students have almost no confidence speaking English. In short, these will be a difficult three weeks, as I try to teach the remaining subjects in their syllabus. Specifically, I am tasked with helping prepare students to write (descriptive, argumentative, and expository, among others) essays of at least 250 words, which I do not think most of my students are capable of. These essays are worth 20 points on the exam, but only two of them are for grammar, spelling, and word use, so despite their difficulties forming correct sentences, if they are able to form an essay that more or less correctly answers a question they have a decent chance of doing well on that part of the exam. As I help them develop their weak essay writing skills, I hope that I am also able to improve some of their mechanical English, so that they are able to do better on the other sections of the exam as well. We shall see how it goes!

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Routine

Posted on September 19, 2012 by Alexander Rolnick

I have been in Ngara for a week (as of the writing of this post on September 13… yes, it has taken a while to post this), yet already I find myself falling into routine. I wake up by 6:10 so I can be out the door by 6:30, so I can arrive at school by 7:30. My first day I thought I could make the walk in 40 minutes, but even at a really fast speed walk I still arrived about 5 minutes late. Now I leave myself an hour, so that I don’t have to walk on the verge of a run, but I have decided that I will purchase a bicycle so in the future I will not have to devote so much of my life to walking to and from school. Still, walking has been a worthwhile experience. Many of the students at my school, and others across Tanzania, walk double the distance I have been walking, and then they have next to nothing to eat or drink over the course of the school day. It is very impressive, but also very sad.

Arriving at school, I sign into the book which teachers must sign into every day. Nobody ever signs in after 7:30. I say hello to whatever teachers are milling around the staff room, and then head to my ‘office’ where I will either prepare to teach, help students, or chat with whoever else is there. My time at school is by far the most unpredictable part of my day. While there is a set schedule, even during this first week it seems like it is rarely stuck to. The only real constant, it seems, is the tea break, which never gets canceled. A staff meeting will be held during class, or, classes will simply be canceled.

Something that happened yesterday illustrates brilliantly how my school, and presumably most Tanzanian schools operate. Many of my classes are doubles, meaning that there are two periods back to back, but this specific class is a double with a period separating it for “radio.” So, I found a natural break in my lesson, and told my students I would be back in 40 minutes to finish their lesson. I walked down to the staff room, and had lunch with the other teachers. A few minutes before my class was due to start, I said “I am going back to teach. Badaye (later).” I entered class and began to continue my lesson, but five minutes in a student approached me and said, “Mr. Alex, we have to leave.” I was very confused, but figuring they knew better than I did, I released them. As I walked outside, I saw the Discipline Master (the teacher who has the additional duty of handling student misbehavior, occasionally with corporal punishment). I asked him why my students had left, and he explained that for the next three days (and maybe more) after 12:55 Form IV students would be practicing for graduation and they would not be going to class. I had a moment of panic where I began to worry that this stream (I teach 4 steams of Form IV with about 50 students a piece) would fall behind. Then, I realized that this kind of thing will be happening all the time, and there is nothing at all I can do about it. I will simply have to be prepared for the cancelation of my classes from time to time – it is a fixture of the Tanzanian school system, and no amount of complaining or arguing on my part could ever change it. While, to my mind, such cancelations are detrimental to the education of my students, that is simply not how Tanzanians would look at it. How, exactly, they see it, I cannot be sure, but it is yet another example of cultural difference.

In any case, after school ends at 3:00 I walk home, making a stop at the market to pick up anything I need, and then a little further down the road, making a stop at the internet cafe if I have the time. By the time I get home it is around 4, which means it is time to start cooking if I hope to eat before it’s dark around 7:00. I start the charcoal jiko, which takes about 15-30 minutes to get to temperature, depending on how much kerosine I use, and then I begin to prepare dinner, which variously consists of picking through and cleaning beans and rice to make sure there is not rocks, grass, or other random matter in them, and preparing vegetables. And, of course, there is only one burner unless I light up the kerosine jiko. By 7:00, if I am lucky, I have finished eating dinner, and if I am even luckier the electricity is working, meaning I don’t have to walk around the house with my headlamp until 9-10, when I go to bed.

And thus ends my day. More to come on Tanzanians, my students, the school (and the school system), and much more.

PS: Cold showers in coldish climates are really awful.

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A gracious welcome

Posted on September 11, 2012 by Alexander Rolnick

I arrived in Ngara yesterday (07/09/1012), after a long and sometimes stressful bus ride. More may follow on that, but I want to begin by thinking a little about the warm welcome my fellow volunteers and I have received. As anyone who has read some of my earlier posts knows, my blog is called ujamaa because I am interested in better understanding the social dynamics of Tanzanian culture. My first extended authentic experience with this culture came with my arrival in Ngara, and with the series of meetings that took place shortly following our arrival.

The four of us arrived following over 30 hours of travel time, which was broken up by a 6 hour layover in Kahama. We were picked up by the District Secondary Education Officer, Julius Nestory, who heads the department, and the statistics and logistics officer. We headed to their office to begin our Ngara orientation, where we were introduced to the other department members. This first meeting was an odd mix of formality and warm welcome. We signed the guest book, which, I would come to learn, is a fixture of any Tanzanian government office or school, and had tea, chapati, and maandazi. Everyone introduced themselves somewhat formally, with their name and job position, and we did the same, including some details about where we were from and the location of our teaching assignments. Despite these formalities, everyone was very warm and casual, once we began to chat, and we were told to “be free” more times than I can count. I think this an approximation of the Swahili word karibu, which literally means welcome, but also has some connotation with being free that I don’t quite understand, other than the fact that it is very hospitable.

Despite the fact that Secondary Schools in Tanzania are supposed to be an  English-only environment, this is not the case, practically, anywhere in Tanzania. The reason for this becomes evident after only a short time with the district officers – they are simply, and understandably, more comfortable speaking in Swahili. Some conversation takes place between us and them, but they quickly switch into Swahili and do most of their conversing in that language. While the four Ngara volunteers have – on average – the most developed Swahili skills of any the volunteers in any of the regions, even Sue who is very conversational, was unable to carry on much conversation in Swahili with the group. I could catch words here and there, but most of the content went over my head. Occasionally, one of the officers would translate some of the content as it related to our plans for the day. We learned that we would be going to a number of government offices to be introduced to various members of government.

We met the people in the immigration department, the police commander, the head of education in the Ngara district, the President’s representative in Ngara, and a few more important people. In each office, we would pass around the guest book, sign our names, and do introductions. Every official was very gracious and welcoming, and they all assured us that we were free to contact them should we have any problems. All these meetings had to same – to my American eyes – odd fix of formality and casualness, but in the end the point being made was very clear – we were very welcome, and everyone was very happy to have us here. That was a very good feeling, despite the oddness of the cross-cultural interactions, and I imagine I will slowly get used to these Tanzanian formalities.

We were brought to our house (which is largely fantastic), and told that there would be a welcoming dinner at one of the facilities in the compound later that evening at 6. Again, we could not have been made to feel more welcome. The generosity of our hosts was almost overwhelming. At six, we headed to the house were the dinner party was going to take place. Only the other volunteers were there. Around 6:30, Julius Nestory and the headmaster of the school where the Ngara district returning volunteer works showed up. Not until an hour later did everyone else arrive, along with the food. Surprisingly, they all arrived within 5 minutes of each other, which to me signified that Tanzanians are an hour and a half late to functions like this. There were around 18 people in all (including the headmasters or a representative from each of our schools), and there was probably enough food to feed 40. After introductions, a brief prayer, and hand-washing, we began to eat. Everyone was encouraged to go back for more food, and Jonah Katanga, the Statistics and Logistics Officer, who I think all the volunteers got a really good feel for, jokingly told us that we would be offending everyone if there was food left over at the end of dinner. Tanzanians are not shy about telling you that you should eat more, which I have no problems with (at least not yet!), because the food was fantastic and I was very hungry. Following dinner there were speeches, which we were told should be under a minute and a half in length. Everyone gave a speech, which was nice, but again brings us back to the odd mix of formality and informality over the course of dinner. I thanked everyone for making us feel so at home, and in the middle of the last speech of the evening the electricity went out, and thus the dinner ended.

Trying to put all these experiences in words of analysis is very difficult, because they are so confusing to me in many ways, but I hope that they shed a little light on my experiences with Tanzanians in Ngara thus far. Perhaps as time goes on I will be better able to articulate the roots of some of these cultural differences and better explain how they affect life for Tanzanians.

PS: This post is far from current, but you’ll have to get used to reading about things days and even weeks after they take place.

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This is Tanzania

Posted on September 4, 2012 by Alexander Rolnick

Do you know that sinking feeling in your stomach when you realize that a plan you’ve made is just not fated to work out? That moment when you realize at you will have to revisit your expectations? Earlier today was the first time in Tanzania I have had this feeling, but I expect it will not be the last.

Delays and changed plans are a common occurence here, but I did not begin my day expecting such a significant change of plans. Originally, the group of Kagera region volunteers (4 of us) were slated to leave the city on Monday morning, meaning that we would arrive in Ngara sometime midday on Tuesday. However, we discovered there was no Monday bus, and the field director (Ashley) bought us a ticket for Tuesday morning.

I woke up at 4:30 this morning to finish packing my bags, to be ready for a 5 am departure from the hostel. We loaded our bags and headed to the Ubungo bus station, where all of the greyhound style busses in Dar leave from. I say greyhound style because they are large passengers buses, but that is where the similarities end. There are no bathrooms on board, which honestly might be a good thing, and the stops are infrequent at best. Passengers are advised to drink only to prevent dry mouth, and the first leg of the trip to Ngara (from Dar to Kahama) could take as long as 17 hours, depending on the traffic and many other possible mishaps.

So, we arrived at the bus station around 5:40 am this morning. It opens at 5 am, but all the busses leave at 6, and beginning around 5 the place becomes an absolute madhouse. The sun has not yet risen, and people are running around, shouting, and trying to find their buses among a maze of people, cars, and of course, buses. Getting to the bus was simply crazy, even compared to the market in Kariakoo which simply blew my mind. Two porters carried the vast majority of the luggage on two-wheeled push carts, as the girls have far to much to carry themselves, and they ran through the maze like they were being chased by some dark evil. They wanted 40,000 shillings, but we ended up only paying 20,000, which is still quite a bit for the 10 minutes (of admittedly very hard work) they did.

We arrived at the bus, and one of the crazier negotiations I have ever witnessed began. Three men who work for the bus line proceeded to tell Ashley that there was no space on the bus for our luggage, and that we were going to have to pay for luggage, which is against the policy of the bus company. So, she spent the next 20 minutes trying to convince these men that we didn’t need to pay. I was only able to pick up on bits and pieces of the conversation, but from what was relayed back to us, one man was more concerned about marrying Ashley than getting our bags on board, and the others just wanted to make an extra buck. Ultimately, they suggested that all our bags might go on another bus to Kahama, while we took the original bus. This was not acceptable to us, as we figured it would probably be the last we would ever see of our bags, and so as 6 am rolled around the bus simply rolled off without us, as our stomaches dropped in disbelief. As they say, “this is Africa.” Our Swahili teacher taught us that in Tanzania they say TIT (or, “this is Tanzania”).

In the end, we stored our bags in a luggage room that these men promised was safe, and they assured us that the bags would make it on to the bus tomorrow. I think that they probably will. My feeling was that everyone involved wanted to make some extra cash, but that none of them would actually go so far as the rifle through our bags and steal our things. At least I hope so. Wish me luck tomorrow. TIT.

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Orientation

Posted on August 31, 2012 by Alexander Rolnick

I began this post over a week ago (on a bus), but I have been so busy that I have not had a chance to finish it. Unfortunately, this is not a post with an overriding theme, because there are simply too many things I want to update people on. Of course, it is full of observations, but I wanted to provide a general update to my trip so far, and there is no one thing to focus it on, other than orientation as a whole.

I met up the up with other volunteers on August 14th, and we drove North of Dar to stay for a few nights at Mpingo (African Blackwood, or ebony) Farm. The farm was very pleasant – it was started to try and preserve the Mpingo tree which is prized by many Tanzanians as an excellent wood for creating charcoal. This has led to it nearly becoming extinct in Tanzania. It is also used by carvers up and down the coast to create beautiful wood carvings that are omnipresent in the coastal regions at curios (object markets). It was nice to be out of the city after my three weeks there. You could actually see the stars. The food was delicious, and I was happy to begin training and to meet the other volunteers. My days have been really busy, but things are going well. We are either traveling or training, but nothing has been too overwhelming yet – I just don’t have a ton of free time that isn’t spent in the company of fellow volunteers. At the farm about two weeks ago we all got fresh coconuts (literally we watched this some guy climb up a few trees and pull them off), which was pretty amazing.

Otherwise, stuff is happening at a rate too frequent to record. Some highlights include: making connections with fellow volunteers, many of whom I have really enjoyed getting to know; exploring areas of Dar I had not yet seen (including Kariakoo, the biggest market in Tanzania) with volunteers from the Tanzanian NGO Restless Development; driving for 8 hours to get to Iringa, where I will be until September 1st; learning more about my placement in Ngara, Tanzania (a roughly 26 hour bus ride from Dar es Salaam); teaching my first class to Tanzanian students; and observing the creation of a traditional Tanzanian dinner (ugali, a THICK corn porridge, chicken stew, and stewed cabbage and tomatoes).

Orientation has been good, though I’d be lying if I said I haven’t found myself bored during our actual orientation sessions from time to time. The training sessions and classes have largely been very good, but sometimes there is only so much time one can spend sitting in a warm room and learning about teaching techniques. That said, I have been enjoying the extracurriculars and exploring Iringa, the beautiful mountain town we have been staying in. The pace and energy of the town are much slower than Dar, which is very nice. It also has just about all the amenities of Dar, so I have not found myself wanting anything. Other volunteers have stocked up on some Western comfort foods for their sites, but I think I will just have to deal with whatever food cravings I have after the fact.

I think I will close this post here, and begin a couple more focused ones to hopefully post sometime in the next week. We will see what kind of internet access I have after arriving at site (on September 3rd or 4th, depending on the buses), but it could conceivably be a little while until my next update.

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Briefly

Posted on August 21, 2012 by Alexander Rolnick

I am really busy with training at the moment, but I didn’t want it to seem like I am dropping the blog, so a brief update follows. I will be teaching at Ngara Secondary School in the Kagera region of Tanzania, and living in a former UN compound that housed a number of people during the Rwanda genocide. Ngara, the nearby town, is really close to Rwanda.

That’s it for now! Training is really time intensive and I haven’t had much time for anything beyond that.

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