Visiting "Forever Angels" Baby Orphanage
Hike up to the "Dancing Rocks" (Me, Jaimie, Sabrina, Ruben)
Hike up to the "Dancing Rocks" (Me, Jaimie, Sabrina, Ruben)Sunday, June 29, 2008
Wednesday, June 25, 2008
My favourite Swahili word
After six lessons of Swahili, I have decided upon my favourite Swahili word. I don’t have a favourite English word, so why have a favourite Swahili word I really don’t know – I just do.
The word is “karibu,” pronounced with an emphasis on the “i” so as not to sound like any form of Canadian wildlife. The direct translation is simply “welcome,” yet its uses seem to be boundless – you literally hear it spoken thousands of times each day. When you walk into a shop, you hear “karibu.” When you are inviting someone to a social event, you say “karibu.” When you are offering to share food with someone, you say “karibu.” There are many other examples as well:
Karibu ndani [welcome inside]: “Come on in!”
Karibu tena [welcome again]: “Come again!”
Karibu kiti [welcome chair]: “Have a seat!”
Karibu Tanzania: self-explanatory
Although there are English equivalents to all of these phrases, the common use of the welcome seems to create a gracious conversational atmosphere that doesn’t exist with English. Any international person living in Tanzania will tell you that Tanzanians are some of the most welcoming people they have encountered. They are proud to invite you into their homes and places of work, regardless of how big or small their home may be, or whether they own a supermarket or sell vegetables along the road. This idea of welcoming is evident in the culture, but especially pronounced in conversation and language. It would be nice to incorporate “karibu” into my vocabulary back in Canada, but its likeness to “caribou” would likely lead to some strange situations…
The word is “karibu,” pronounced with an emphasis on the “i” so as not to sound like any form of Canadian wildlife. The direct translation is simply “welcome,” yet its uses seem to be boundless – you literally hear it spoken thousands of times each day. When you walk into a shop, you hear “karibu.” When you are inviting someone to a social event, you say “karibu.” When you are offering to share food with someone, you say “karibu.” There are many other examples as well:
Karibu ndani [welcome inside]: “Come on in!”
Karibu tena [welcome again]: “Come again!”
Karibu kiti [welcome chair]: “Have a seat!”
Karibu Tanzania: self-explanatory
Although there are English equivalents to all of these phrases, the common use of the welcome seems to create a gracious conversational atmosphere that doesn’t exist with English. Any international person living in Tanzania will tell you that Tanzanians are some of the most welcoming people they have encountered. They are proud to invite you into their homes and places of work, regardless of how big or small their home may be, or whether they own a supermarket or sell vegetables along the road. This idea of welcoming is evident in the culture, but especially pronounced in conversation and language. It would be nice to incorporate “karibu” into my vocabulary back in Canada, but its likeness to “caribou” would likely lead to some strange situations…
Sunday, June 22, 2008
I would have been a terrible pioneer...
We've had a very busy week in Mwanza since my last entry! Last Sunday evening we went to the home of Pendo, our housekeeper, to have dinner with her family. Her home consists of two detached rooms -- she sleeps with her three daughters in the room where we ate dinner and her five sons sleep in the other room. Her husband has three wives, so he is seldom around. I asked Pendo how many children she had at my age -- 4!!! Like our visit with Mama Asha, my camera was a big hit, so we took lots of pictures!
The other highlight of my week was travelling with the Yogurt Mamas to their new land plot outside of Mwanza city. They have received funding from the Tanzanian Social Action Fund (TASAF) to purchase eight cows and build housing for them. A mainstay of TASAF's philosophy is that they want the local groups that they fund to feel a real sense of ownership of the project. For this reason the Mamas are required to make a contribution, equivalent to 5% of TASAF's, mostly in-kind through their labour. They land was previously used as rice paddies, so dirt mounds divide the land into small rectangles. On Monday, I went with the Mamas to work dismantling these boundaries. To call these women tough would be a huge understatement -- they worked all day in the sun, and all they ate was boiled sweet potatoes and tea! They kept telling me to go sit in the shade and were perpetually (in a very motherly way) checking my hands for blisters. Needless to say, my contribution to the digging was neglible, but it was some great bonding time with the Yogurt Mamas.
[With Ruben, Pendo, some of Pendo's children, & some neighbour children]
[Pendo's three daughters]
[Pendo's neighbours standing in the doorway]
The other highlight of my week was travelling with the Yogurt Mamas to their new land plot outside of Mwanza city. They have received funding from the Tanzanian Social Action Fund (TASAF) to purchase eight cows and build housing for them. A mainstay of TASAF's philosophy is that they want the local groups that they fund to feel a real sense of ownership of the project. For this reason the Mamas are required to make a contribution, equivalent to 5% of TASAF's, mostly in-kind through their labour. They land was previously used as rice paddies, so dirt mounds divide the land into small rectangles. On Monday, I went with the Mamas to work dismantling these boundaries. To call these women tough would be a huge understatement -- they worked all day in the sun, and all they ate was boiled sweet potatoes and tea! They kept telling me to go sit in the shade and were perpetually (in a very motherly way) checking my hands for blisters. Needless to say, my contribution to the digging was neglible, but it was some great bonding time with the Yogurt Mamas. [My very sad attempt at digging]
[Trekking back to the road after a long day's work]
Sunday, June 15, 2008
Having the mayor on speed dial?!
In the week ahead, Melanie, the International Research Coordinator from the University of Western Ontario is visiting Mwanza. In preparing for her arrival, I have been busy booking meetings on her behalf, and in the process learning a lot about the social norms of appointments and communication.
First, planning ahead seems to be a foreign concept here. When I made requests for appointments the following week, most people thought I was from Mars.
Second, a communication infrastructure built almost solely on cell phones has very interesting dynamics. When I was first given the list of appointments to book (the Dean of the Medical School, the Chair of the Medical Research Institute, the Mayor, to name a few) I thought I was being sent on mission impossible. With no phone numbers, I had to visit the offices of these individuals. On more than one occasion, this is what happened: I arrived at the office and asked his/her assistant if they were available, the assistant responded “He/she is away at meetings/vacation/trips, but you can reach them on their cell phone.” I am so used to the Canadian approach of deflecting communication from high ranking officials, that I was absolutely floored with how freely they distributed personal contact information for these individuals.
Yesterday morning I called to confirm an appointment with Leonard Bihondo, the Mayor of Mwanza, Tanzania’s second largest city. Apparently I am a saved contact in his cell phone, since he knew my name when he answered. Then we had a candid conversation about how our Monday morning meeting would jive with his personal weekend plans to visit his home village. Talking weekend plans with the mayor on his cell phone…unbelievable….
First, planning ahead seems to be a foreign concept here. When I made requests for appointments the following week, most people thought I was from Mars.
Second, a communication infrastructure built almost solely on cell phones has very interesting dynamics. When I was first given the list of appointments to book (the Dean of the Medical School, the Chair of the Medical Research Institute, the Mayor, to name a few) I thought I was being sent on mission impossible. With no phone numbers, I had to visit the offices of these individuals. On more than one occasion, this is what happened: I arrived at the office and asked his/her assistant if they were available, the assistant responded “He/she is away at meetings/vacation/trips, but you can reach them on their cell phone.” I am so used to the Canadian approach of deflecting communication from high ranking officials, that I was absolutely floored with how freely they distributed personal contact information for these individuals.
Yesterday morning I called to confirm an appointment with Leonard Bihondo, the Mayor of Mwanza, Tanzania’s second largest city. Apparently I am a saved contact in his cell phone, since he knew my name when he answered. Then we had a candid conversation about how our Monday morning meeting would jive with his personal weekend plans to visit his home village. Talking weekend plans with the mayor on his cell phone…unbelievable….
Learning to Make Yogurt
Wednesday morning Osama and I arrived at the kitchen early in the morning so that we could observe (and participate in) the yogurt production process from start to finish. Milk is transported directly from farms to the kitchen by bicycle each morning.
We also began piecing together the financial records of the kitchen, so that we can help advise on pricing decisions. Handwritten Swahili receipts can be a challenge, but thankfully I already learned numbers in my language lessons! This will likely be an ongoing challenge for the summer, but we now have a very good handle on the cost associated with producing a litre of yogurt.
[With nine of the ten Yogurt Mamas and our translator] 
[The milk delivery]
A small portion of the milk (about 4 litres each day) is pasteurized and sold as milk, mostly to mothers with HIV who want a safer alternative to breastfeeding. This little side project was initiated by the Yogurt Mamas themselves, to fill a demand they recognized in the community. The remaining milk is transformed into the probiotic yogurt that is the mainstay of the business. This is a fairly tedious process that involves a lot of sitting and stirring, as we learned through experience! The women are very conscientious about their work – checking temperatures meticulously and sterilizing equipment between batches. 
[Pouring the hot milk into the cooling container]
We also delved into the kitchen’s recent sales records to discover that on a typical day, about 17 litres of yogurt are sold from the kitchen and about 21 litres are given free to people affected with HIV.
We also began piecing together the financial records of the kitchen, so that we can help advise on pricing decisions. Handwritten Swahili receipts can be a challenge, but thankfully I already learned numbers in my language lessons! This will likely be an ongoing challenge for the summer, but we now have a very good handle on the cost associated with producing a litre of yogurt.
[The Yogurt Kitchen cash register – yes, that is a Nestle powdered milk can]
To help you better visualize the project, here are photos of the kitchen (inside and out) and most of the women that make it happen.
[With nine of the ten Yogurt Mamas and our translator] [The outside of the kitchen] 
[The inside of the kitchen]
Monday, June 9, 2008
Getting to Know the Yogurt Mamas
It’s hard to believe I’ve been in Mwanza for over two weeks! Although many things are starting to become familiar and route, there are always many firsts as well: playing my first game of Saturday pick-up ultimate frisbee, shopping for the first time at the chaotic market, attending a bilingual English-Swahili church service.
My classmate, Osama, arrived on June 5th so we are now moving ahead with our work. With the help of a translator, we have already learned a lot about the yogurt kitchen. Here are the highlights: Twelve women, respectfully called the “Yogurt Mamas,” produce probiotic yogurt at a kitchen in Mabatini, about a 25 minute walk from our apartment. With purchased milk, and probiotic culture produced at NIMR (the National Institute of Medical Research) they produce about 50 litres of yogurt daily. Each day about 30 litres are distributed (free of charge) to HIV patients and the remainder is sold to the local community for 1,000 shillings per litre (approx. $1 Canadian). They have also purchased a plot of land outside of the city where they hope to expand the business and keep their own cows. Tomorrow we are going to observe the Yogurt Mamas in action, so pictures of the kitchen will be coming soon!
Yesterday afternoon Osama and I visited with Mama Asha (one of the women that work at the yogurt kitchen) and her family. We received such a warm welcome! Although there were some language challenges, we had great fun with the international language of skipping ropes and bouncy balls! We also experienced our first home-cooked African meal, including tomato salad, fish, and ugali. Ugali is a dough-like African staple that is served hot and eaten with your hands (after you squish it around in your hands like play-doh). They were all laughing at our poor ugali eating skills, but by the end we were getting the hang of it!
Here are a few pictures from our visit with Mama Asha…
My classmate, Osama, arrived on June 5th so we are now moving ahead with our work. With the help of a translator, we have already learned a lot about the yogurt kitchen. Here are the highlights: Twelve women, respectfully called the “Yogurt Mamas,” produce probiotic yogurt at a kitchen in Mabatini, about a 25 minute walk from our apartment. With purchased milk, and probiotic culture produced at NIMR (the National Institute of Medical Research) they produce about 50 litres of yogurt daily. Each day about 30 litres are distributed (free of charge) to HIV patients and the remainder is sold to the local community for 1,000 shillings per litre (approx. $1 Canadian). They have also purchased a plot of land outside of the city where they hope to expand the business and keep their own cows. Tomorrow we are going to observe the Yogurt Mamas in action, so pictures of the kitchen will be coming soon!
Yesterday afternoon Osama and I visited with Mama Asha (one of the women that work at the yogurt kitchen) and her family. We received such a warm welcome! Although there were some language challenges, we had great fun with the international language of skipping ropes and bouncy balls! We also experienced our first home-cooked African meal, including tomato salad, fish, and ugali. Ugali is a dough-like African staple that is served hot and eaten with your hands (after you squish it around in your hands like play-doh). They were all laughing at our poor ugali eating skills, but by the end we were getting the hang of it!
Here are a few pictures from our visit with Mama Asha…
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