Lost in Translation

After a long second flight south to Moshi, we finally landed in the International Kilimanjaro Airport only to have our passports glanced at, stamped and returned to us while the customs officer was texting on his cell phone. Greaaat security clearly. Thankfully all my bags arrived but one girl's got left behing in Amsterdam so hers have only arrived today, which sucked for her but luckily everyone (not just me) overpacked so she had plenty of clothes to borrow.

The volunteer house is great. There are 15 new volunteers starting this week and five that stayed on from previous sessions. The veteran volunteers have been here for ages so they constantly give us tips on where to go, what to say, etc. The what to say is the biggest part. Before going, the organization tells us it's a good idea to learn Swahili. Having been to South Africa and having no problem with language, I sort of brushed it off as something that would be nice, but not necessary. Wrong! Tons of people here speak only the most basic English, resulting in very long and broken conversations. It's starting to change as it is increasingly taught in schools and by volunteers but it is nowhere near at the same level as SA. We have done lots of activities to help settle in, including Swahili lessons (very useful), a historical education of Tanzania and a trip around Moshi Town. Yesterday we went to Rau, which is a Chagga village just outside of Moshi.

Today was our first day at our placements. I headed off on the 8:30 bus (thank goodness it wasn't the earlier one) to Jipe Moyo Women's Centre. When I arrived I was introduced to some of the women that work there. The greeting is shikamoo which is said to elders. The cultural norms are very respectful here so it is of utmost importance to learn proper introductions and greetings. I think I know what to say before and then always get flustered when I have to use it! But polepole (slowly slowly), practice makes perfect I suppose. Today I mainly observed all the goings on. In the mornings, there is an english class for children and other members who want to participate. Today a German volunteer ran it but hopefully I'll start helping him out. He and another German are also volunteering, which is nice but also means that they speak German to each other. So just because I wasn't already lost in translation, we now have german to throw in the mix. Afterwards, there was a meeting in which we discussed issues facing the youth in their community and then how the formation of a youth group could help to change them. It was super interesting as an observer and helped me to get an insight into their community life.

Well we are all off to the bar across the street, called Mzungu bar. Mzungu means white or foreigner in Swahili. It's not meant to be offensive and it's something we hear ALL the time. Walking through town we get called mzungu constantly, seems a bit odd though. I can't really picture yelling the equivilant of that in Toronto and it going so well...

Kwaheri! (goodnight)