Tuesday, 28 August 2012

Buzzz

I have been slacking on my posts lately. The combination of discovering a social life in Dar, the busiest week of my internship, and failing internet access has been the reason.

I'm not going to get into anything right now because a girl needs to eat, and in order eat, she's gotta cook. Please give this article a read instead and you'll get a good idea of what Dar is like (excluding the wonderful details like amazing people!). Check out the pictures under the caption "In pictures: life in Dar es Salaam" as well.
http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/magazine-18655647

Monday, 20 August 2012

Perspective

I am thinking how interesting it is that the exact same situation can feel entirely different depending on how you perceive it.

My home just went from a safe-haven to a dangerous prison in a single realization. I just noticed my roommate took my key and I couldn’t get out of here if I wanted to (the lock is one of those ones where it can only be opened with a key whether from the inside or outside). It put me in a panic.

If I hadn’t seen she took my key, I wouldn’t feel any differently. I would have still been reading my book in the comfort of my secure little home. It is the bars on every window and the inability for anyone to get in here that allows me to relax within these walls on an ordinary day. However, without that key to unlock the door, I am literally trapped in here. (definitely not the safest feature and I don’t know much about this but I’m pretty sure that isn’t up to building codes back home)

What a difference it makes feeling like you are locking the bad guys out verses being the good guy locked in. Having the key in your possession rather than someone else and your perspective make all the difference in the world. Clearly this can apply to a multitude of things on an emotional and personal level as well. I will take this opportunity to ruminate on that while IAMTRAPPEDINMYF*@KINGAPARTMENT.


Below find a visual representation of my feelings.
the bars on my window on a normal day

the bars on my windows at this moment


Shopping

Woa. What a busy time right now. Hold on to your hat, this is a long one. 

It is especially busy now because the funding for our projects need to be spent by the end of the month. Despite the fact that money is needed for a zillion things around here, it is important we spend on things that build capacity and ensure sustainability. So when we spend money it is often on things like training for example. The challenge is that organizing trainings takes time and time is not on our side (or as Tanzanians say “time is no longer our friend”). 

However, it is incredibly important that we spend this money because if it is not spent, the funding appears to be unnecessary and then in the future the organization may have difficulty justifying the need for funding. There is no question the money is needed. It is just spending it in the way that we see will enhance the capacity of our partners and have longterm impact. 

So I spent Friday shopping! This is not the usual way we spend nor the type of shopping that may seem exciting but was necessary for the farmers group I am working with. It was such a crazy day for me. We rented a driver and a truck and I went shopping with the head of the farmers group that I am working with. His name is Sylvester. The first day I arrived here I saw him in a training, I didn’t actually meet him, but I knew I wanted to know him. You know how some people you are just drawn to? Well He seemed a solemn guy but there was something about him that made me want to know him and to make him smile. I watched as he took notes and was clearly intent on learning about organic farming, organic pesticides, marketing, record keeping, and financial management. I could tell he was a hard worker and was paying such close attention during that training. I asked my boss what his name was and the next time I saw him I shook his hand and in Swahili I said “Sylvester how are you today”. He lit up and laughed. Although people laugh at my swahili all of the time, I could tell he was tickled I knew his name. Ever since, he and I have been building a relationship of me trying to speak with him, and him saying in Swahili, “no Tanya, say it in Swahili”.

So, back to Friday, what a challenge! We drove for hours before we were able to find our destination, the gardening supply store. When we got there I was so confused because it was a tiny duka the size of a condo kitchen. We were there to pick up 4 wheelbarrows, several shovels, hoes, rakes, buckets, pipes, etc. All I could see were shelves of seeds. Turns out the big stuff is kept in a warehouse several blocks away. So the owner and Sylvester head off to get that stuff sorted at the warehouse-ish place. But they left me in the duka(store) by myself. I asked the owner if he was going to lock the door and he said no. He told his neighbor to keep an eye on me and make sure “no undesirables bothered me”. I asked what I should do if someone comes in. He said tell them to wait. Okay, simple enough. (I got one marriage proposal. This is nothing new around here for me, but this time it was a woman asking me to marry her son. Oh Tanzania, you are funny.)
Apparently I am a very popular tomato in Tanzania

This joke turned up when I googled my namesake tomato:
Why did the tomato turn red?.....
Because it saw the salad dressing!

Eventually they returned, I paid the owner, and we all got in the truck. An empty truck. I was confused because I thought that they had been loading it for the hour I sat in a store by myself. Hmmm, I will never know why it was done that way. What I can say, is efficiency is not a primary characteristic around here. So anyway, we made our way back through the market and I waited in this big truck in the middle of a market while the men went again to get the supplies. Two boys about 12 years old set up their spice sales on the ground right outside my window and hung out with me while I waited. They went and got me some dates(the food, I can get a date on my own thankyouverymuch) and I bought some mystery spice off of them. (What I know is you can use it on meat or rice. Great, so many options.) Eventually the driver and Sylvester returned with several children carrying things, loaded them into the truck and after paying the kids some shillings for their help, and a guard for allowing us to park where we did, we were off after a mere 7 hours.

What a day. I am in a truck with two guys who don’t speak English going shopping for farming supplies on the busiest day of the year. (The end of Ramadan is this weekend so Friday's market was the equivalent of Christmas eve back home. Everyone was out shopping.) As we sat in epic traffic that Dar is known for even on a normal day, I brought out my notebook that I write everything in. I showed Sylvester the pages and pages of my Swahili lessons I had been working through and he was impressed. Tanzanians are very proud of their language and appreciate any effort made by expats to learn Swahili. That notebook of words that were familiar to him gave us a starting point, a common ground. From that point the day developed into so many amazing moments of us laughing (like when I told him how the kids in the market were staring at me because I was white-he thought that was hilarious), or when he seemed moved when I asked how his son Dennis was today. He was surprised I remembered his name. Then there was the end of the day when he expressed how hungry he was so so we ate some of the dates I had. These are simple things but I know that it was a bridge between Canadian NGO worker and Tanzanian farmer. Best 7 hours in traffic ever.

Sylvester and I with our goods
(credits
Hair:by salt water and wind
Makeup- dusty roads and humidity
Wardrobe- Whatever covers my legs and shoulders
Photo- the extremely annoyed driver)
There are so many little ways to connect with people across language barriers and cultural differences. I am grateful I had the chance to spend the day with Sylvester and in a small way contribute to his and the other farmers’ livelihood. The success of this farm is how he will provide for his son Dennis. So this was no ordinary trip to the hardware store.

Thursday, 16 August 2012

Adorable Pests

I was reading a manual for urban agriculture today and came across this:

“If there are goats or monkeys in the area provision need to be made so that the food is not eaten or destroyed by these animals.”

True. I imagine it is a nuisance but I think it is ADORABLE.  This is definitely not an issue for urban farmers in Vancouver. Is it wrong that I want this problem.

I think I'd lose my mind with excitement if I saw this guy
on my patio steeling some lettuce.


I guarantee I would be putting things out there to attract them. Back home I put bread out to get the birds to come by-even though the beau doesn't like them eating the veggies he planted. I just love animals, and the older I get, I even appreciate birds. Hmm. (If I'm not careful I am going to be one of those crazy old ladies pushing her dog around in a stroller)

Or how about these two having a stare down over the goods:


now this is a little off topic but in searching for cute goat pics, I found this. I think my boxer back home needs a pet goat. Interspecies friendships are the best!



Monday, 13 August 2012

Boring

Not boring like you don’t want to read. It’s a play on words, this is exciting shit. Read on.

Since my last post on water a lot has happened. I was so excited when this happened:



But don’t be deceived like I was. This borehole actually turned up dry (well, there was a little water but not enough to irrigate the land we have). That image above is actually water being put into the borehole to clean it. I didn’t know that at the time because my knowledge of both Kiswahili and the process of drilling for water is lacking considerably.

So I was so disappointed when I figured out that we didn't have the water we needed. But....then I was happy because the drilling company agreed to drill another borehole. What great customer service (ya, kind of, we put in their contract that if they didn’t get to water, they only got half the money). So last week they drilled another and today I just got back from the site where they were doing a pump test.

Unfortunately it isn’t the greatest quantity of water. I am told that in the past there would have been much more. Hey Global Warming, go suck it! The amazing news however, is that the water is potable. Meaning we can definitely use it for irrigation (unlike the other 2 boreholes on the site that are saltwater and completely useless).

This is very good news.

Here I am tasting to see for myself if there is salt content like the previous boreholes. Nope, we have a successful borehole! (although I shouldn’t be drinking any water, so we will see how I feel tomorrow and spare you the details)


 


Sunday, 12 August 2012

Night and Day

We have all heard and likely used the term “as different as night and day”. For me this has taken on new meaning recently.

I hesitate to write anything negative about Tanzania because I love it so much. Kind of like a child. You know, where you love it so much no matter how badly she behaves. Where you can say things about your own kid but if anyone else were to dare you would tell them off. You want to brag about her and her accomplishments. But there she is misbehaving right in front of you. There’s no denying she’s being a little brat.

Well, for me this stands out most of all once it gets dark. The first two weeks that I was here I was completely oblivious to the issue. I felt safe and comfortable from day one. That is until one night I was walking with a group of 8 people and one of the girls I was with got grabbed by a moving car and dragged in an attempt to steal her purse. She was then dropped on the ground and was knocked out for a few minutes (in the end she was fine, suffered a few scrapes and bruises).

This incident put a great deal of fear in me. All the negative stories of people being mugged came out of the woodwork. Why hadn’t I heard about this? So I wouldn’t run the other way the minute I got off the plane I guess. Now I have heard so many bad stories I tell people I don't want to hear as they begin their diatribe. How does it serve me? I get it, it's dangerous at night. Enough said, I am being careful.

So now I have heard so many stories of people being mugged (and worse) while walking or even by their taxi drivers. For a while I had no idea how to operate once the sun went down. I was told don’t carry a purse or bag of any kind (Crap! All my skinny jeans have fake pockets). I was suspicious of every taxi and bajaj (like a tuktuk) driver and taking phone numbers obsessively of those who seemed like they didn’t have ill intent (like I can determine this based on a 2 minute conversation in my broken Swahili anyway. What am I, an intuitive genius). For a few days I didn’t leave my home.

Now, it’s a few weeks later and I am feeling more comfortable. I am extremely cautious but realize that although I may be bordering on the poverty line back home, here I am rich and that makes me a target! The fact that there is so much poverty in a city that is becoming increasingly expensive makes it understandable that crime is on the rise as well. (This is a big issue that is way beyond my expertise-I don't have an expertise- but I hope some smarty pants gets on it). So now I know some rules of the road here in Dar at night and am navigating how I can go get some dinner without being utterly terrified (now I am just mildly terrified).

In the day, on the other hand, this is when sweet Tanzania is behaving and I am proud. Certainly I don’t go around flashing money, and I watch where I walk (mainly because traffic is INSANE here-I play frogger daily). People are kind and friendly the majority of the time and the most common word you will hear is Karibu (Welcome). The worst thing I’ve seen in the day is that I am stared at. (Which I think everyone should have a chance to experience since it is almost guaranteed that you have been on the giving end of a stare at some point in your life) People aren’t subtle either. There is no such thing as a glance to get a look at me. No, here, people will just stare at you for as long as they want. What I like to do is give them a slow smile then greet them in Swahili. 99% of the time you will see a big smile grow on their face and then they will engage in a short exchange of pleasantries. The next time you see them they will say hello like you are old friends.

I love it.

So here, the difference between night and day is palpable. Unfortunately, the days here near the equator are short, but each day I am grateful for that day and every evening I have something to look forward to, tomorrow.


Tuesday, 7 August 2012

Paradigm Shift

So today I caught myself feeling sorry for myself. I have been worrying about money and comparing what I have to others in a similar position as me. What I mean by that is other expats working here in Dar, a relatively expensive city.

I seem to have temporarily forgotten one of my favourite quotes:

“Comparison is the thief of joy”- Theodore Roosevelt

Okay, so I realized I needed to have a paradigm shift. There are zillions of people with more money than me and I have never cared about it in the past. The irony is that I began to focus on it while in Tanzania surrounded by people with so much less than me. I am aware that I sound like a total jerk right now. So what was this about?

Well, much of the expat population has a lot of money. People often take jobs here because of the money they can make- definitely not the reason I am here. However, there is a certain way many expats live here in Dar. They go out to restaurants, they party, they drive cars. I now realize this was all about fear for me. Safety, comfort, and a social life come at a price here and I was feeling like I couldn't have those aspects of life that are important to me, based on lack of finances.

Last night I went out for a social networking event to try to make some more friends around here but realized it's not the lifestyle I want here anyway. I don't like to drink a lot back home, I certainly don't need to do it here. I don't want to form superficial friendships based in that environment either.

I can still go out now and then but it turns out I'm actually pretty happy experimenting in my kitchen with new ingredients that I don't use back home.  Besides, some of my favorite moments here are working on my Swahili chatting with the staff that work here in my hotel/apartment,going to the little Dukas (small shops) to buy produce and making small talk with the owners. Those experiences are what matter to me now and I will remember in the future. And they don't cost me anything. I may not be able to go out to the restaurants targeted toward westerners as much as my expat friends and co-worker but I just may have some experiences they don’t because of it.

The reality is, I have so much to be grateful for and am in such a position of privilege that it is embarrassing to admit I was evening struggling with this issue for a second.

It feels much better to accept the circumstances and figure out how to look at it differently. Just to keep the gender equity in quoting, and sum up the lesson I have learned, here is a great one from Eleanor Roosevelt:

“It is better to light a candle than to curse the darkness”

Well well, looky here. It didn't cost a penny to sit on this beach. I am so lucky!

Monday, 6 August 2012

Inspiration

Many of you have already seen the pictures and heard the story but it is such a significant part of my experience so far that I just had to do a post on it. I hadn't started this blog yet when I had the chance to meet Jane Goodall so here is how it all went down.

I love animals. I adore primates. I am CRAZY about chimpanzees! Combine that with the fact that Jane Goodall was a pioneer, is a woman, an adventurer, an environmentalist and I am smitten. Did you know that she didn't have a degree or any scientific background when she set off to Tanzania to study the chimps, a testament that if you set your mind to doing something you can make it happen.

 I remember as a kid learning of who she was and thinking she was crazy cool. I saw a picture of her when she was just a young woman in the jungle with a chimp holding her hand and I wanted to be her.(But that's the thing with pioneers, you can't really repeat what they've done and still be a pioneer, so I am finding my own path) Stay tuned though, because I have every intention to go to Gombe where she worked and meet those chimps for myself.

When I found out that she would be in Tanzania, the very country in which she began her groundbreaking work on chimpanzees, I knew I had to go tell that bitch what I thought of her (Sorry mom). How cool is that, I got to meet her here. Although I had already seen the movie, it was given to me as a gift, I went to "Little Theatre" here in Dar to watch the film and hear her speak for a few minutes afterwards.The last time she was here apparently the theatre was packed, standing room only. So I nerdily got there an hour early. The theatre wasn't even half full so I only had to share her with about 60 people at most. This woman is often speaking to stadiums, how lucky am I.

Well she arrived late like the rockstar that she is and sat right in front of me during the last 20 minutes of the movie. I could hardly contain myself.  (When I did get the mic in my hand during the Q&A period I told her she really is a rock star. How embarrassing).

I happen to have a photo on my kitchen wall back home of one of the chimpanzees that she rescued. My boyfriend sweetly scanned it for me and I printed it so that I would have something that she could sign.Afterwards I had the chance to chit chat with her for a bit.

Here is a compilation of how meeting such an inspirational childhood hero can bring you back to your childhood spirit. I even look different here. I was absolutely giddy.

I'm next in line to meet Jane... I truly don't
 know when the last time I got that excited was

You guys, she's listening to me, she's looking at me!!

Telling her about "Kudia" who hangs
 in my kitchen


Do you see a resemblance?
 I totally think I should
play her in her biopic.

Sunday, 5 August 2012

Pride

There is so much to write about. I already have so many stories to tell, some important, and many trivial. I’ll get to them all eventually. As I was trying to decide what to share today, I remembered it’s Pride Weekend in Vancouver.


It's a chance for everyone to celebrate equal rights (essentially why I am here in Africa) and the LGBT (lesbian, gay, bisexual, and transgender) community. This is one of my favorite times to be in Vancouver. People of all ages and orientations are out enjoying the festivities. I love when I see families out with their young children. I think it is an amazing opportunity to teach acceptance and diversity and maybe even learn about the historical struggle this particular group has had to face.


Yesterday I spent the day with a friend who happens to be gay. He is in his late 20’s from Canada and told me how he was afraid to come out until he was finished university. He was afraid to even admit it to himself. This is a common story among my gay friends and I think it is a testament to the need for continued awareness and education.


In Tanzania same sex activities are illegal and can lead to a penalty of imprisonment. Richer countries have threatened to deny any more aid if Tanzania does not change its laws regarding homosexuality (Yay!) but Tanzania remains steadfast and refuses to change its laws (Boo!). Last year the director of an organization that works toward the rights of LGBT was detained by police and released under the condition that he cease his activism. Hard to make changes under these conditions. I can only imagine how people who are deemed homosexual are treated. It is terrifying. How lucky are we as Canadians to have had politicians who say things like this: "The state has no business in the bedrooms of the nation."- Pierre Trudeau. I was too young to know what it was like when he was in office, but dude, I definitely agree with you there.


So today I am reminded that although human rights should be universal, they are not. And that what took decades to create, the acceptance and rights of LGBT in Canada, can be torn down quickly. So get out, support, and celebrate your fellow HUMAN. Wish I could be there.


PS. I just worked out then immediately had a Toblerone

 

Thursday, 2 August 2012

Water

Something I have become very passionate about over the past few years is water. I am so grateful that I have a sink faucet that I can drink out of at any time. In fact, I could also drink out of the bathroom faucet, the shower, and if I were a better housekeeper: the toilet. Seriously, it's all the same water.

Many years ago I used to drink bottled water as I fell for the mass marketing hoax that it was healthier for me. Now, when in Canada, I try to never buy bottled water and am almost always seen with my steel water bottle from http://water.org/ (It's Matt Damon's pet project) filled with good old tap water. Hey Matt Damon! If you are reading this, which you probably are, why wouldn't you be? I WANT TO WORK FOR YOU and while were at it I could use an acting gig too. There are those people who have argued with me that tap water is not as good for you but I would argue that the negative implications of bottled water are far greater. Check this out for a quick overview if your interested: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Se12y9hSOM0

Here in Dar es Salaam I must buy bottled water to drink but still use the tap water to cook with. Water is a big issue for people here; to cook, clean, and water their plants with. This is where things have gotten really exciting. Although I have no background in water issues, somehow I managed to be placed in a job here where I am overseeing the drilling of a borehole. This is really exciting to me. Don't get me wrong, it is actually really mundane: I am dealing with contracts and multiple meetings and negotiations. I am not doing the drilling although below is a photo of me pretending I am. Today I was at the site as they began drilling and I felt so excited that this borehole will help the group we are working with irrigate their land, allowing them to grow crops to feed themselves and earn an income.

The tricky part is, it is very close to the ocean and there are already boreholes that have salt water. You can't water a garden with salt. So, tomorrow it gets even more exciting, or not- I find out if this water we dug to today will be usable. Please, please, please, please.....





Wednesday, 1 August 2012

Why am I here?

So I couldn't seem to get my shit together or the confidence to begin this blog until now. So here we go. I will try to keep my posts brief, I know everyone has busy lives, but I can't make any promises. The beauty is, you can just stop reading. If you are even reading now, hello, hello, are you there?


So why am I here in East Africa? I am doing an internship in Dar es Salaam, Tanzania for six months as the Project Officer of Urban Agriculture for an NGO. 


Four years ago as a barely working actor with a shitty restaurant job, newly broken up with the love of my life, I traveled to Tanzania to volunteer and have a new experience. It changed my life. Not in that way that people say experiences change their lives and nothing actually changes but in big life-changing ways. 


I was volunteering, for utterly selfish reasons like self discovery and wanting to give my life some kind of purpose, in a rural village called Bagamoyo (it means "Lay your heart down"- that's amazing so basically I HAD to go there). Much happened in that short time, like realizing I wanted to reunite with my partner who I had broken up with a few months before (After I left Bagamoyo we had a romantic reunion in Bali and I hope to spend the rest of my life with him).


One of the most significant things  occurred to me while I was teaching. As I taught these amazing teenagers who were designated as "street youth" who came each day on time to learn from me and sat on the ground working so hard, I realized how valuable education is and that I have not taken full advantage of my own opportunity to get an education. I could go on and on about the teens of Bagamoyo but I will just say that they inspired me so I returned to Vancouver and went back to university. This summer I was in my final semester of a four year degree when I was awarded this internship. Back in the very same country that inspired me to go to university! Is it just me or is this amazing full-circleness.  Honestly, it makes me believe in the power of dreams and action. 


A bit of Africa
My first day here I was introduced to a man, Hilary, who works in my building. I looked at him with amazement and I said "I know you". Then I asked him if he used to live in Bagamoyo. Turns out he was one of the drivers for the organization I volunteered with in Bagamoyo! People this is crazy! I am in a city of around 4 million people and I see someone in the first few hours I am here that I met 4 years ago in an entirely different city (I am aware that is poor sentence construction but I am trying to articulate my amazement). It is astounding to me how small and connected our world is.